Eye of the Beholder
by Sache8
Summary: SEQUEL to Amelia's Violin, formerly titled Across the Stars. Jonas joins SG1 on a mission to rescue Daniel Jackson, who has been kidnapped from a Tok’ra base along with someone Jonas once cared for deeply. JonasOFC.
1. Secrets and Memory

**TITLE **– Across the Stars

**AUTHOR **– Sache8

**RATING – **PG-13

**GENRE – **Romance/ Action/Adventure

**SUMMARY - **Jonas joins SG-1 on a mission to rescue Daniel Jackson, who's been kidnapped from a Tok'ra base… along with someone Jonas once cared for deeply. Jonas-OC.

**DISCLAIMER – **This sandbox be the property of MGM, Gekko Productions… folks not me.

* * *

**EYE OF THE BEHOLDER**

**by Sache8

* * *

**

**CHAPTER ONE - **_Secrets and Memory_

General Jack O'Neill liked to pretend that a knock on his door was an adventure. What was that song…something about spoons and sugar and every job supposedly being _fun_? So if he could just keep telling himself that every knock could be about something exciting, interesting, or even just plain urgent, it would _almost_ be like going through the stargate, right?

Unfortunately, in this case it was just Daniel.

"Aren't you supposed to be offworld?" Jack asked, regretfully returning his attention to SG-9's report on the thermal vents of M16-7G5.

"Uh, yeah, pretty soon. I just wanted to make sure you didn't need anything else from me before we leave."

"Believe it or not, Daniel, this base has managed without you in the past."

"Yeah, but this is a pretty important mission, and I don't know how long—"

Jack held up a finger. "Inestimable in length it may be. Important? Not so convinced."

"Jack, our alliance with the Tok'ra is one of the most important things that ever came out of this program."

Daniel had that tone in his voice— a serious sadness that Jack knew was really regret cleverly masked by a strong helping of patented Daniel Jackson idealism. Jack finally looked up at him. "For _them_, maybe," he said squarely.

"They saved Jacob."

"After holding us captive."

"They saved _you_."

Jack's only reply was a snort.

"Jack, I have to try."

"I know, I know. You want to try. The President wants you to try. Carter _definitely_ wants you to try, and you're on your _way_ to try! Heck, you even get a date. So what's the problem?"

They'd had this argument a couple of times now, and Jack really wished Daniel would stop dredging it up again. He had no patience with the Tok'ra, and probably never would, and as far as he was concerned the past few months of stilted relations with them had been one giant headache off his plate. It wasn't like they were at war or anything, he'd often pointed out. Why not live and let live, for crying out loud?

"So you're not coming to see us off then?"

Jack gestured helplessly at the stack of mission reports to be read and incident reports to be filled out.

"Yes, because paperwork has _always_ stopped you before," Daniel muttered. "Later then, Jack."

"If you see Jacob, say hi."

"Will do." Daniel turned around but was barred from actually leaving by the sudden appearance of Walter Harriman in the doorway.

"Um, sir?" Walter called after two-stepping with Daniel a moment. The archeologist stepped back into the room to oblige the small sergeant.

"Yes, Walter?"

"This just came from Doctor Whittaker, sir," Walter said, handing Jack a folded note across the desk.

"Who?" Daniel asked as Jack accepted it.

"Thanks, Walter," Jack called to his retreating aide. He turned back to Daniel and unfolded the paper. "From St. Vincent's in Denver. Doctor who has security clearance. He's been monitoring the condition of Jonas's old professor."

"The one that had schizophrenia?"

"Yeah." Jack's eyes roved the note and he added, "_Had_ being the key word." He put the note down with a sigh. "Kieran's dead."

"Oh," said Daniel uncertainly. "That's too bad." Hesitantly, he asked, "Why was he even here?"

"Moving him would have been rough, mostly on him. He was already comfortable where he was."

"Yeah, but didn't he have any family… loved ones back on Kelowna who would have wanted him home?"

"Just Jonas, as far as I know. He never mentioned anything about family."

"That's kind of sad."

Jack looked up at Daniel thoughtfully. "Yeah, it is. Anyway, I guess you were right about one thing," he said.

"What's that?"

"Paperwork can take its proper place when time serves. Seems I have a trip of my own to make now."

"You're going to Kelowna?" Daniel seemed surprised.

"I assure you, the visit will be as brief as possible, but I'm pretty sure they're going to want his body returned." Jack got to his feet. "You know what? Maybe I will come see you off."

As they neared the gate room, both pensive, Jack said, "I think Carter might want to come too."

"Well, do you want me to postpone?" Daniel asked. "Because you know, I don't have to—"

"No," Jack said, quick to cut him off. "You should go. Things aren't going to begin very well for your big reconciliation if you're late."

Daniel still seemed hesitant, but finally nodded. "Okay, well, tell Jonas he has my condolences."

"Sure thing." As they stepped into the gate room, Jack's eyes fell on Daniel's unlikely companion, and he wondered if his true motivations for sending Daniel hastily on his way were justified.

"General O'Neill!"

Amelia Kinsey still looked as bright and healthy as ever, all traces of the disease that had once wasted her body completely gone. Jack's fondness for her was certainly unlikely, but the kid had been through a lot in the past couple of years— heck, the last couple of _weeks—_ and the last thing she needed right now was to accidentally run into a former boyfriend when she hadn't been expecting to.

Fortunately, as far as Jack knew, Daniel had absolutely no idea that Jonas and Amelia were in any way connected.

"Amelia," Jack greeted with a very sincere smile. "How much longer are you going to be taking these little road trips?" he asked. This was Amelia's third follow-up visit to the Tok'ra since her recovery, but he knew how fastidious the Tok'ra could be when it came to research.

"I'm not sure. I hope it doesn't end too soon, though," she said, looking over her shoulder at the gate, then smiled back at him. "Then I won't get to go through the stargate anymore."

Jack smiled back. "That I understand _completely_," he said. He glanced over at the two somberly dressed men flanking the far door. "And your buddies won't get anymore vacations," he added. He threw a wave and a chipper grin at the bodyguards. "Hi, guys."

"That's another reason it's kind of relieving to get away," Amelia confessed lowly, giving a playful roll of her eyes. "Secret Service on your tail for seven years when your dad wasn't even vice-president for _one_ really seems like overkill, don't you think?"

Privately, Jack knew Amelia Kinsey had far more need of protection than probably any vice-president's family member in history, full term or no full term, and he had it on good authority that the gentleman standing in the corner knew that very well. Still, even the United States government realized how, on a scale of ridiculous, sending Secret Service through the stargate— particularly when there was a fully-trained military team _already_ going— rated well beyond overkill. Amelia's agents would remain on Earth.

"Well, just remember," Jack assured her. "If you need any help, you've always got Daniel watching your back."

They looked over at Daniel, who had donned his backpack and was tapping the face of his watch with a focused frown. A moment later he looked up to see them both staring at him expectantly. "What?" he asked.

"I feel better already, sir," Amelia said.

Daniel, Amelia, and SG-12 departed with little incident, and Jack saw to it that the Secret Service cooled their heels somewhere out of his sight. They insisted on maintaining a presence while Amelia was offworld, and it had been quite an adventure convincing them that the twenty-six other levels _besides_ the control center were equally as adequate for their brand of vigilance.

As he headed back upstairs, pondering his chances of having the Kelownan matter wrapped up before Daniel and Amelia got back, he tried to fight back a gnawing guilt. He knew Amelia probably would have liked to see Jonas, painful memories of the past notwithstanding, and he really didn't have the right to try and deliberately maneuver around it. Certainly he had no right to conceal from both of them the knowledge of how close they'd come to crossing paths again, but Jack O'Neill was a master of interring past hurts. In the end, it would be better for both Jonas and Amelia to keep the past buried in two years of time… and counting.

* * *

When Sarah Gardner had set foot on Earth soil again for the first time of her own free will, she'd disavowed all interest in anything to do with Egyptology. The United States government had expressed interest in retaining her intimate and painfully acquired knowledge of the Goa'uld to spur the efforts of the Stargate program, but Daniel and the then Colonel Jack O'Neill had firmly planted themselves in her corner, supporting her in her decision to pick up her life in whatever way she chose. She could not have asked for better champions.

If only knowing what she wanted to _do_ had been as easy as knowing what she wanted to avoid.

She had tried pursuing other avenues of the past. Egypt had once been her passion, but it was not the only ancient culture worth knowing. This, however, had soon proven quite counter-productive. _All_ of the history she'd devoted her life to was skewed. Fortunately, recent events had given her an opportunity to reach further back. A frozen continent and a lot of help from Daniel had finally offered her a bridge between doing the kind of work that had always defined her, yet avoiding the painful associations she would probably always be trying to evade.

The corners of Antarctica were not reeking with the remnants of the Goa'uld.

It was quieter since the Atlantis expedition had departed. Sarah had not been assigned here during that time, but the friends she'd made since her arrival talked of it often — the excitement of the newly-discovered Ancient outpost and the potential for so much more.

Some of the most brilliant minds working at the outpost had been lost to the expedition, meaning progress in research here had slowed considerably. Screening new candidates was a time-consuming process, but Sarah had not objected to the quiet and solitude of the much smaller team that now manned the base. The excitement was still here, though. Sarah had spent her months immersed in Latin studies, as well as sciences she'd never before taken an interest in, and she could even frequently be found lending a hand clearing out centuries' worth of ice from corridors that hadn't been intended to be full of frozen water. Not all of the complex had been as protected as the area with the control chair. The methodic mental studies and manual labor were soothing. And every day they learned a little more about the way things had once been here. Sarah greatly enjoyed calling Daniel with her discoveries every couple of weeks.

She couldn't call him tonight, unfortunately. She knew he was recently offworld and could be for some time. She dearly wanted to tell him about the new chamber they'd cleared today. It looked to be a lab of some kind, though it was hard to know for sure. In some ways it was unfortunate the Ancients hadn't been so arrogant as to spell out _their_ exploits and accomplishments on the walls.

So it was just her and Dylan Thomas tonight. She'd turned in early, bundled in several layers of fuzzy blankets and a stack of her other favorite poetry on the nightstand beside her. They'd be up early in the morning to start the exploration of the new chamber, and she liked to be particularly fresh on these days.

A knock at the door— especially of the very official military variety— was certainly unexpected. Curious, and inexplicably wary, Sarah disentangled herself from her blankets and went to the door.

"Doctor Gardner?" said the smartly dressed officer on the other side. "I'm Major Davis from the General Hammond's office. I'm sorry to disturb you, particularly at this hour, but we wondered if we could ask you a few questions."

"Is anything wrong, Major?" she asked. She hadn't been directly approached by the military since she'd left the SGC. This, she knew, had been General O'Neill's continued influence.

The man smiled kindly. "Not at all, Doctor. When you're ready, the General is waiting for you."

Sarah made no effort to hide her surprise. "General Hammond is _here_?"

"I'll let him explain."

It didn't take long to get ready. A pair of thick black pants, socks to match, and a sky blue fleecy jacket comprised the quickest outfit on hand, and she was out the door as soon as she'd slipped on her boots. Assuming she would find the General and any other personnel he'd brought with him in the common area, she headed in that direction.

"Doctor Gardner," General Hammond greeted as he rose to his feet. He'd been sitting at the room's large table with a cup of steaming coffee by his hand and a very nervous Doctor Kendall two seats over. The General's smile, however, was as inviting as Sarah had ever found it, and his posture eased some of her own nervousness.

"General Hammond," she returned, stepping forward to take his offered hand. "It's been a long time."

"Please, have a seat," he said when he'd released her from the handshake. "I was pleased when Doctor Jackson told me you'd chosen to take a post here. I hope it's been working out."

"Thank you, General. I'm very happy here. Can I ask what this is about?"

For the first time, the General hesitated. "Doctor, do you know who this man is?" he asked. He nodded up at Major Davis, who pulled a full-size photograph from a folder and placed it on the table in front of Sarah. The photograph was of a white-haired, older gentleman wearing an expensive suit and a scowl.

Sarah blinked at the photograph slowly. "He seems a bit familiar," she confessed at last, "but no, I don't know his name."

"For a short time," General Hammond said, "Robert Kinsey was Vice-President of the United States, but more recently he had the misfortune to become host to a Goa'uld symbiote."

Sarah's sharp intake of breath and wince were not missed by anyone in the room. There was an uncomfortable pause before the General continued, "Doctor, I know it pains you to have to talk about your experience with the Goa'uld, but this is a matter of security, both for my country and the rest of the world."

Sarah didn't say anything, but finally gave a stoic nod.

"The last we knew of the former Vice-President's whereabouts, he was presumed aboard an al'kesh orbiting the planet, a vessel which was soon after destroyed."

"It was the same al'kesh that Osiris left in orbit when—" Major Davis began, but a quick glare from General silenced him. "My apologies," he said. "That was irrelevant information, anyway."

"Kinsey was presumed dead, though it was not confirmed," General Hammond concluded. "Now we have proof that he did indeed survive."

Two more photographs were produced. These were less crisp, but they showed who was unmistakably the same man in inconspicuous clothing walking through some kind of lobby. "These shots were taken yesterday from security footage at an airport in Cairo," General Hammond said. "How Kinsey managed to get that far undetected we're still trying to work out, but we think we know where he went next."

Major Davis pulled a third item from his folder and placed it before Sarah.

"I presume you recognize this?" General Hammond asked softly, gently pushing the map and photographs towards her.

Sarah swallowed, and it was several heartbeats before she could reply. "It's called Philae," she said quietly. "And the other one is called Bigeh. They're islands in the Nile devoted to the worship of Isis and Osiris, respectively."

"Can you think of any reason a Goa'uld would go there?"

"What makes you think he did?"

"The archeological dig on the island of Bigeh was infiltrated and looted late last night. Witnesses didn't get a clear look at their attacker. They were a mere handful of archeologists and the Egyptian officials supervising their work, and within a matter of minutes they were all either killed or incapacitated. When those who survived came to, a few seemingly random artifacts were missing from their work and the assailant was gone."

"However," said Major Davis grimly, "there are several coinciding reports by tourists along the riverbank of seeing lights rising from the island. Most assumed the lights had to do with some new part of the pyrotechnics show the Egyptian government puts on along that part of the river, but we know that's not the case."

Sarah was only half-listening. She was gripping the edge of the table hard as her mind made a rapid and direct conduit between what the officers were telling her and the dormant trove of Osiris's memories lurking in her brain.

"There was a tel'chak hidden on Bigeh," she finally said, exhaling forcefully when she'd sorted out what she was unwillingly remembering. She winced. "Deep in the caverns. Bigeh was a sacred place— very few were permitted to go there, even in the days of the Pharaohs. Osiris wanted to keep his best-kept secrets safe from his rivals' spies."

"This tel'chak was one of those secrets?"

"Yes." Then she paled. "What else was taken? Do they know?"

The men exchanged glances. "Among other things, a canopic jar."

"Bloody hell, did they ever stop stashing those things everywhere?" Sarah snapped. She sighed, rubbing her fingers against her forehead. "Do they know what it looked like?" The memories were complete enough that she had her suspicions, but she wanted confirmation nonetheless.

It seemed Major Davis's folder was unending in its supply of helpful graphics. "This is from the dig team's research notes," he said. Sarah bit her lip as she looked at the familiar shape and size of the jar in the photograph. The figure looked much as she'd expected. A woman's face with a plumed headpiece, an ankh in her right hand a tell-tale battle axe in her left.

How Osiris had hated her.

"She was called Anat," Sarah finally said.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, I think that I'm posting this about a year and a half after I first advertised that I would. It's not finished yet, but I recently (finally) had some breakthroughs in writer's block as to how to proceed with it, so I'm feeling daring enough to post a little of it. I hope you all enjoy.

The title is inspired by the musical piece of the same name from the _Star Wars: Attack of the Clones _soundtrack, which is one of the few things I actually _like_ about that film. Honestly, I've been stuck on a title for this fic, and still haven't thought of anything brilliant. The phrase 'Across the Stars' always had this spine-tingling hint of adventure and romance to it, so I thought… eh, why not?

Special thanks to **Domi Lys **for helping me out with the Egyptology portions of this story. Everything in this chapter regarding the islands of Philae, Biggeh, and the legends about Osiris, Isis, and Anat were her ideas and contribution. I just wrote them up.

I hope you all enjoy!

Saché


	2. Old Friends

**CHAPTER TWO _– _**_Old Friends

* * *

Stars danced and pinwheeled through the fabric of space-time, and one small burst of matter coalesced back into order. In less than the time it took to blink an eye, Jonas Quinn stepped onto the ramp at Stargate Command for the first time in over a year. The air was the same— the stale and neutral smell of scrubbers and artificial ventilation. The ceiling still rose vastly above his head._

He stepped away from the stargate a bit, making room for First Minister Dreylock and Sam, both who followed him a couple of moments later.

"First Minister," greeted Jack from the bottom of the ramp. "Welcome back to Earth."

"General O'Neill," Dreylock returned with all of her quiet dignity.

Despite the sobriety of the occasion, Jonas stepped forward eagerly to greet Teal'c, standing beside Jack. The former first prime had not been with Jack and Sam when they'd come to deliver the news of Doctor Kieran's death. "Hey, Teal'c," he said with a smile.

"It is good to see you again, Jonas Quinn," Teal'c said, nodding his head with subdued smile. "I am sorry for the loss of Doctor Kieran."

The quiet center of sadness and regret inside of Jonas rippled a bit, but settled just as placidly. Strangely, the death of his old mentor had been much easier to take than the reports of his continuing decline over the last few months. More than anything, Jonas was frustrated at not having been able to visit Doctor Kieran once or twice more before he died. Still, there was a profound relief in knowing that the Doctor's personal demons had now been silenced. Jonas could only trust his friend was finally at peace.

"Thanks, Teal'c. I appreciate it."

The last of the Langaran party had by now arrived, which consisted of seven honor escort— apart from Jonas— who'd been chosen to accompany Doctor Kieran's body home. Also of the party were the Andari and Tirannian representatives, who had declared their resolution to pay their respects as well, though Jonas suspected their true motives had more to do with ensuring Kelowna didn't pull any fast deals regarding the stargate behind their backs.

Jonas glanced back and noticed Kianna, who was also eyeing the gate room with familiarity in her expression. She caught his eye and gave a reassuring half-smile. The young scientist had recuperated admirably, Jonas thought, from the mental imprisonment of the Goa'uld symbiote that had held her captive.

Still, he knew she still had her bad days. He thought it would be good for her to get away from the lab for a while, and had been the one to suggest she be part of the honor escort. Kianna had argued, given her lack of acquaintance with Doctor Kieran, but most of the professor's scientific peers had already passed away. Jonas thought it fitting that there be a scientist representative in the group. Kianna had done much to advance the naquadria work that Doctor Kieran had begun.

"Folks, we're going to take you to your assigned quarters now," Jack said over the mild din of conversation that had been building with each person to come through the gate. "Then we've got some refreshments for you. I'm sure you've got a lot to discuss."

First Minister Dreylock succeeded admirably with an expression of diplomatic gratitude, but Councilor Eremal couldn't help narrowing his eyes for a fraction of a second at the former Colonel O'Neill. Undoubtedly he was remembering their last encounter, when Jack had so unceremoniously told the bickering Langaran delegation "where to shove it." Sometimes Jonas wished he'd actually been there to witness it.

He turned back and met Kianna halfway down the ramp. "I'll get that for you," he said, picking up her bag, and adding it to the weight of his own, already thrown over his shoulder.

"Jonas, it weighs about seven _dactiles_," she said, amused.

"All the more reason it's no trouble," he said with a smile, and they headed off.

It seemed only natural that he fall into step with Sam as the group made its diffuse way through the unvarying gray corridors of the SGC. Smells and sounds Jonas hadn't realized he missed so much came rushing back. "Daniel's still offworld?" he asked. Kianna lingered half a step behind them, and seemed more interested in her whereabouts than in his question to Sam.

"Yeah, he's on the new Tok'ra base at Bilkah," Sam said. "No word yet on when he'll be back."

"I'm sorry I missed him."

"You should come back and visit sometime, you know, just for the heck of it."

Jonas smiled. "I know."

"But you're always too busy."

"That's the way they keep us."

There were too many in the party to use the elevator at once, so Jonas, Sam, and Kianna were among those who waited while Jack took the first group up to level twenty-five. "So, Kianna," Sam began after a moment's awkward silence. "How have things been since… we last saw you?" She had the uncomfortable manner of someone who didn't know how to be concerned without being intrusive.

"I have been very well, Major Carter, thank you," Kianna replied serenely.

"Actually, it's Lieutenant Colonel now," Sam said.

"Oh. Congratulations. And I'm still grateful for all your help last year."

"You're welcome."

The exchange had more meaning than the casual onlooker would have presumed. Though Sam and Kianna's acquaintance hadn't lasted very long, Jonas privately knew how much Sam had helped the younger woman cope with the initial helplessness and disorientation after the Goa'uld had been taken from her.

They were in the next group upstairs, and Jack showed Kianna to her room first. "Doctor Cyr, this will be your room," he said. "Personally, I think it has the best view, so you should count yourself lucky."

Jonas shook his head and glanced at Sam, who returned a small, knowing chuckle. Kianna, who had been looking between the large, framed poster of Pike's Peak on one wall and the photograph of the Blue Angels on the other, turned slowly to give the General a look that was unmistakably sardonic. Jack seemed impressed.

Sam and Jonas broke away from the others and headed two doors down. "I wasn't sure if you'd want your old room or not," she said as she opened the door, "but in the end it just felt kind of weird not to put you in here."

"Thanks, Sam," he said, putting his bag on the bed. "It doesn't really make a difference, to be honest."

"So," she said after a moment, still lingering in the doorway. "Kianna. Are you and she still—?" She broke off and jerked her head meaningfully.

Jonas blinked at her a moment, then said, with some surprise. "Oh! No, no, nothing like that."

"Really, because I thought maybe—" she pointed vaguely in the direction of Kianna's room. "Well, you hadn't said anything, but when I saw she was here—"

Now Jonas blushed slightly. "Yeah, I guess I should have said something, but I think only you would have ever wondered. She's married, Sam."

"Really?

"Yeah! It turns out before _I_ met her she was fairly seriously involved with an old school friend, but when the Goa'uld came along, _she_ didn't find him worth much of anything." Jonas stopped, figuring the rest of the story was pretty self-explanatory. Then he added. "Her husband really doesn't like me," he added, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Eh, that's no big deal; I don't really like you either," Sam said with a laugh and a mock wave of dismissal. Then she smiled more sincerely.

"It's good, though," he went on. "I think it's really helped her cope with what happened. Faster than she might otherwise have done, I mean." He crossed his arms. "I'm really happy for her."

"So how've _you_ been?" Sam asked. She walked to the bed and took a seat beside him. She mimicked his posture and folded her arms.

"Fine, I guess. Busy." He cocked a half-smile at her. "Like you, when you're not offworld."

"You poor boy. Don't they ever let you out to play?"

"Ah, not really, no."

The sounds of Jack playing hotel clerk were still filtering in from the corridor, and Jonas and Sam watched the pageant of O'Neill versus the politicians for a few amused moments before Jonas finally worked up the courage to ask the question he'd been most longing to since he'd arrived.

"Sam, how is—?" he began, then his brow furrowed in hesitation, and he again puzzled at why this should be so difficult.

"She's fine, Jonas," Sam said, not looking at him. "She's still healthy, still playing music all over the country and ducking her bodyguards."

"Bodyguards?"

"Secret Service. Kinsey was Vice-President for a stint."

"Really?" This was news to Jonas.

"Yeah." Sam paused, as if she wanted to say more, but settled at last for another reassuring expression. "Yeah," she repeated. "She's good. She still drops by for checkups once in a while, though I actually haven't seen her all that much."

"It's good to know anyway," Jonas said quietly.

"I'll let you get unpacked. It's not good to let _General_ O'Neill have too much free reign. Teal'c certainly isn't going to do hold him back."

Sam left Jonas alone with his thoughts. The melancholy of returning to Earth to bring home Doctor Kieran was in no way helped by the ever-present ache stirring up where Amelia Kinsey still had residence in Jonas's heart. If he looked just outside, he could see the door to the room that had been hers those few happiest months of his life.

Amelia was the main reason it had been so easy to let his interest in Kianna Cyr fade away as if it had been swept up by a wormhole. Consciously trying to move on just wasn't going to work, and it hadn't taken him long to realize as much.

Jonas wasn't one to say it was _impossible_ he would ever love anyone else, he just found it very unlikely. And not a day went by when he didn't wonder if, wherever she was, she ever thought the same.

* * *

The newest in a long string of secret Tok'ra bases was on a planet called Bilkah. Had Amelia used the ring transporter to leave the base's confines for the planet's surface, she would have been inclined to go straight back down again. The landscape was bare and rocky, with an oddly-colored sky and very little to hold the imagination.

Pondering all this, she said softly, "I miss Enna."

Her nearest companion turned his attention from his books to regard her quizzically. "Sorry?" he asked. Amelia was almost surprised. Daniel Jackson had begun the volume a short while ago, and had barely stirred since.

"The base I stayed on before, when the Tok'ra first cured me," she explained serenely. She gave a wide yawn. It was getting late, and she was finally feeling sleepy. Amelia, with nothing better to do, had spent her first day on Bilkah tromping along after Daniel and SG-12 as they joined a Tok'ra guide on a tour of the new facilities. While the miles and miles and _miles_ of corridor made for terrific exercise, Amelia privately marveled that the Tok'ra didn't carry balls of string or bread crumbs around to mark their way. She had completely lost track of their progress after the ninth turn or so.

"Right," Daniel said, his forehead wrinkled in that calculating expression of his. "I've never actually been to the Enna base— I'm told it's quite beautiful."

"Mmmn," Amelia said with a languid affirmation. She opened her eyes and glanced at over him. "You should make it the poster planet for promoting the upside of the Stargate program when you guys finally go public," she recommended earnestly.

He gave a small smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

Amelia gave a small grin of her own, and returned to her half-dozing posture. It had been many, many months since Daniel Jackson's buzzworthy return from the land of ascension Like everyone, Amelia marveled, but it had been some time before she'd actually met the last of the SGC's four legendary heroes. She had been surprised to discover an extraordinary shyness on her part in doing so. Jonas had confided many personal things to Amelia— doubts, raw regrets— and a great deal of them had been centered around his history with Daniel. Two years later, Amelia still carried the memory of her love for Jonas with a sad fondness; she knew the awe and diffidence she'd felt upon meeting Daniel to be echoes of all of Jonas's feelings.

Daniel was nice enough, she was ready to admit, kind and gentlemanlike, and perfectly willing to befriend her for herself despite the prejudice the SGC at large had held against her father. He shared many of those sorts of traits with Jonas. In fact, any time her mind decided to _stop_ drawing constant comparisons would be fine with her.

Across the room, SG-12's quiet evening conversation came to an end, and the four team members rose to their feet. Lieutenant Casserman, whom Amelia had recently discovered played one mean harmonica, walked over to the corner where Daniel was sitting at the table. Amelia was sitting sideways on the bench-like niche in the wall. "Amelia," he said, "we're going to bed now. Do you want a walk back to your quarters?"

"If you can call them that," she said, sitting up and getting to her feet as well. "The Tok'ra aversion to doors gets on my nerves."

"Yeah, I think we all agree on that one."

"If only they applied their philosophy to metaphorical doors too," Daniel muttered, turning the page of his book without looking up.

Amelia looked at Lieutenant Casserman, who rolled his eyes, causing her to give a soft chuckle. "Goodnight, Doctor Jackson," she said, and she and the Lieutenant trailed off after the rest of SG-12.

"Night," he distantly called after them.

As they passed the entry way to the room, Amelia stooped down for a moment to pick up her violin case from where she'd left it just inside the door— or rather the frame of where the door _would_ be if the room had one.

Noting her action, Lieutenant Casserman said, "That was fun, tonight. I enjoyed your playing. Sometimes I wonder if the Tok'ra even know what music is."

"You do have to wonder," she agreed mirthfully. "Believe me, I've learned the hard way to bring occupation when I come to a Tok'ra base. Especially now that they've given Malek a command again. I've only gotten to see him once since he got here. I have no idea if or when he's going to have time to conduct my checkup."

"Can't he just get somebody else to do it?"

"He could. He'll probably have to. But he's my friend; it's weird not getting to see him much. Anyway," she went on, directing the conversation back on track, "I certainly wasn't expecting any accompaniment. Where'd you learn to play the harmonica?"

"College in the south," he said with a grin. "I have a whole case of them at home, but I usually only bring one with me offworld. I hope you didn't mind playing everything in e-flat."

"Hey, no open strings," she pointed out. "I can get by without fine tuning if I want to."

"Yeah, I have _no_ idea what you're talking about," he replied.

Laughing, she said, "Still. If you want to bring a G or an F along next time, we could have even more fun, I assure you. It's easier to hoe-down in those keys."

"I'll keep that in mind." Looking further down the corridor, he nodded and said, "Speak of the Tok'ra…"

Amelia caught sight of Malek coming towards them and broke into a wide smile and held out her violin to Lieutenant Casserman. "Could you put this in my cave?" she asked. "I'm going to catch up."

"Sure thing," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

"We'll have to have another session."

"Deal. Goodnight, Amelia."

"Goodnight, Lieutenant."

By this time Malek had reached them and, after making passing greetings with the rest of SG-12, stood expectantly by for the tail end of the conversation. "Good night, Commander," Lieutenant Casserman said with a nod and walked off down the remainder of the corridor, the violin case looking strangely out of place in contrast to his crisp green BDUs.

Once alone, Amelia reached up eagerly to hug her friend around the neck, an embrace which he returned with a trace of amused awkwardness. "It's so good to see you," she said. "It's been months. How's the command going?"

"Times are harried, as always," he said. "The continued momentum of the Jaffa uprising has forced the Tok'ra to change many of our most time-tested tactics. Some adapt to the change more readily than others," he added, his dark eyes flashing weariness. "But it is good to have a command again. I was beginning to think they'd never trust me with one again."

"Seems to me losing a Tok'ra base is a pretty common sob story," Amelia observed. "I'm sure it wasn't your fault."

Malek did not comment, but turned and started heading the way SG-12 had disappeared, but at a much slower pace. "I'm hoping to make time to see you in the lab tomorrow. If this checkup goes as uneventfully as the last two, then we should have you back home in no time."

"You must be thrilled with the success of the experiment."

Malek paused, then gave a rare smile. "Aledar says probably not as much as you, though."

Amelia laughed. Malek's host, Aledar, didn't bother speaking for himself very often, but he was just as dear a friend to her as Malek. "Well, I'm not sure how I feel about a short visit," she confessed. "It's always so nice to have a few days free of the Secret Service agents, but can we _please_ go back to Enna next time?" she implored, turning on him with an exaggerated note of pitiful in her voice.

Malek's amusement was evident by the brief sparkle in his eye, and Amelia was relieved to see that he was beginning to relax. "I might be able to take you there in a few days, if you like," he said. "And of course you're welcome to stay longer on Bilkah too. I think you know how much I favor your visits."

Amelia lapsed into a momentary, awkward silence. That Malek had continued feelings for her wasn't a secret, but her inability to requite them made the topic a painful one for her to dwell on, even when it was barely hinted this way. "Thank you," she finally said. "How do you think Doctor Jackson will succeed in his efforts here?" she added, eager to redirect the conversation as quickly as possible.

"Success is such a relative term," he began slowly. "I can't rightly tell you, beyond observing that I'm not entirely sure what Doctor Jackson _wishes_ to accomplish here."

"Do you support what he's trying to do?"

"If I didn't, he would be having his talks someone else's base," Malek assured her flatly. "But yes, I'm one of few who openly support re-establishing strong ties with the Tau'ri."

"Are you going to be participating in the discussions?"

"I'll be there, but I suspect I'll be acting more as an observer and moderator than a true participant." He turned and peered at her closely. "If you truly want to stay here for a little while, perhaps you should join us."

"Wow, that sounds like all kinds of fun, thanks, Malek," said Amelia wryly. She returned his look. "Honestly, what the heck am I supposed to contribute? I don't know anything about intergalactic wound-salving."

"You'd be surprised what benefit a fresh, un-jaded voice like yours could bring to such a discussion if you wished it to," Malek said. "But I was merely suggesting you acknowledge support of Doctor Jackson with your presence. The success of your cure is one of the few positive things to result from our rocky and tenuous alliance. Believe me, the fact would not be overlooked if you were in the room. You wouldn't have to say much if you didn't want to."

"I'll think about it," she said.

"In the meantime, I'll leave you to get some rest," he said, halting his steps and turning to face her. They were now about fifty feet from her door.

Amelia pulled him into another embrace. As always, Malek's blunt stoicism both comforted and saddened her. "It's good to see you again," she repeated when she pulled away. She kept her hands clasped around his. "You should come visit us tomorrow night. Lieutenant Casserman and I were quite a hit with our music. We're going to play again."

He smiled. "I think I would enjoy it. I'll do my best."

Amelia was just releasing his hands when the loud and heavy sound of impact caused the ground beneath their feet to tremble and dust to shake with belying calm from the ceiling a little ways down the corridor. She gasped, and looked frightfully over at Malek. "What was that?" she asked in trepidation.

His mouth was set so tightly it almost disappeared. "Curses to all hells," he spat. Before he had time to elaborate, there was another, closer-sounding explosion, causing tremblings even more violent. Malek studied the groaning ceiling with narrowed eyes half a moment before seizing Amelia by the hand and running back the way he'd come.

Five seconds later he shouted, "Get down!" and pulled her to the ground just as the ceiling caved, raising a thick cloud of dust and blocking them from SG-12 and everyone else in that part of the base.

* * *

**Review:**

**Pike: **I'm glad to see you back. Hope the computer cooperates from here on out. :-)

* * *

**A/N: **A couple of general notes I forgot to include last time. As I'm sure most of you figured out, this story is set shortly after Season Eight's _Full Alert_. Whereas with _Amelia's_ _Violin_ I did my best to adhere to canon whenever possible, here I'm making no such effort. Though to say the truth I can't think of any way that it blatantly opposes canon… Well, regardless, LOL, you can pretty much consider it an AU story.

Also, interesting factoid: thanks to the knowledgeable **freifraufischer**, I learned that family members of ex-Presidents and ex-VPs have only seven years of Secret Service after said politicians terms are over. It used to be for life, but was changed… at some point. LOL Incidentally, Amelia's secret service code name is (of course) "Violin" though I'm not sure that will ever have a chance to come out in this story. ;-)

Now, just to give you the heads up, I _probably_ won't be posting again for a while, and here's why. (1) I'm switching my focus next week to original fic and the week after that to my Star Wars fic. (2) I've decided I'm not allowing myself to post on this story until I write not one but _two_ chapters ahead, thereby getting ahead of myself exponentially. The good news for you folks is that as soon as the story is _finished_ you'll get speedy updates from then on in. I guess that will make this story go backwards of the way fics usually get posted. LOL

So hang in there. And thanks for all the feedback of the first chapter!

Saché


	3. New Enemies

**CHAPTER THREE - **_New Enemies_

* * *

The Langaran delegation had bickered all through dinner, and Jonas was more than happy to leave them behind when the meal was over and join Sam in a tour of all his old haunts around the base. It was nice to greet a familiar face or two, and to share some laughs as Sam regaled the more comical exploits of SG-1 in the past year, but the place he most wanted to visit called for a more sober frame of mind.

The approach to the infirmary had one new notable feature— a sizable bronze plaque on the wall, every inch of which was covered with names.

"They had this commissioned after my speech at the memorial service," Sam said as he approached it slowly.

"I wish I could have been here," Jonas said quietly. The names on the plaque were an elaboration of the list Sam had begun in that speech— names of everyone Janet Fraiser had saved at the SGC, and more. His fingers roamed the raised bronze letters almost reverently until they stopped on _Jonas Quinn_.

The back of his scalp tingled a little where he'd had surgery almost two years ago. He probably would have thrown away his life in that whole incident but for Doctor Fraiser's persistence. Further down the list, he found Amelia's name as well. Then he pulled away with a sigh.

"Things have certainly been strange around here without her," Sam acknowledged as they progressed into the infirmary itself, which despite two patients in bed and a nurse busily on detail, seemed empty. "We've been having a hard time finding a permanent replacement."

"Yeah, I can imagine," Jonas said quietly, looking around.

They didn't stay long. As they made their way back towards the elevator, Sam asked, "So what's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

"Not much," he confessed. "Breakfast. We're not having any kind of service for Doctor Kieran on this side of the gate, so I think we'll probably be out of your hair by lunchtime."

Sam's response was cut short by the blare of klaxons Jonas hadn't heard in so long.

"_Unscheduled offworld activation!"_

It felt just like old times as Jonas hurried off after Sam. He was gratified that she made no objection, though he figured Jack was just as likely to toss him outside once they reached the control room. Before they got there, further orders came over the intercom, requesting a medical team on standby. Sam quickened her pace.

"What's going on?" she asked when they finally rushed in. Jack was already standing there, and about eight other people were working steadfastly around him.

"SG-12's coming in hot." Jack's face was troubled. His eyes rested briefly on Jonas but he made no comment.

"SG-12 was on Bilkah with Daniel," Sam began, eyes widening, "and—"

"Yes," Jack cut her off. "That'd be them."

Jonas was listening to the sounds of firefight coming over the radio. Jack leaned in to the microphone. "Major Denton, the iris is open," he called, his voice loud and clear. "You're clear to come through."

"Yes, sir!" The voice on the other side was hasty and garbled.

"They're bringing in Tok'ra refugees too," Jack said to Sam as he straightened.

"What about Daniel?" Jonas asked immediately.

"He's trapped," was Jack's grim reply.

"Sir, what about—?" Sam began, but she was cut short by a swift, decisive glare from Jack. He shook his head slightly and folded his arms. Everyone returned their attention to stare at the gate with baited breath. Snatches of Major Denton's orders came through on the radio.

The first member of SG-12 to come through was a dark-haired Captain whom Jonas didn't recognize. She came backwards, weapon still poised and alert, but as soon as she cleared the event horizon, she turned around and hastened down the ramp, eyes already searching up to the control room.

"Sit rep, Captain," Jack called.

"Sir, I've got seven Tok'ra behind me! They were all that we could find that survived the cave-ins." Even as she spoke, the first two of the tok'ra came through, one supporting the other, who was hobbling on an injured leg. "Major Denton and the rest of my team are providing cover fire."

The medical team, who had been diligently waiting on the sidelines of the gate room, were already assisting the first injured Tok'ra onto a gurney. Jonas watched as three more Tok'ra came through, all looking bruised and battered, but none the worse for wear.

Several tense moments and two tok'ra later, the last three members of SG-12 came through almost simultaneously— ducking a shot from a staff blast as they did. The first two men came perfectly side by side, their commanding officer just behind.

"Close it up!" the last man shouted. Jonas could only suppose him to be Major Denton. As soon as the iris was closed and the wormhole disengaged, he pulled off his helmet, breathing heavily.

"Debrief now, Major, unless you need the infirmary," Jack called down.

"No, sir. I'll be right there, sir."

"I guess you'll be needing me to leave now," Jonas said to Sam as she turned to follow Jack up the staircase to the conference room.

Jack, who was already halfway there, heard his comment and stopped mid-stride and looked down at him. Then he sighed heavily. "No, Jonas, you'd better come with us."

A vague weight of dread was beginning to press on Jonas's chest, and he wished either Jack or Sam would tell him what was going on. A guilty shift of Sam's eyes said this was the same thing they'd been silently arguing about in the control room. "Okay," he said slowly.

Neither Jack nor Sam said another word until they were all gathered around the table, awaiting Major Denton and the rest of SG-12. "What's wrong?" Jonas asked. "And what does it have to do with me?"

"As you already pointed out, Daniel hasn't come through the gate," Jack began, "so whatever happened out there, things can't be very good." He looked up and met Jonas's eyes. "But Daniel wasn't the only civilian on Bilkah."

"I don't—"

"Jonas," said Sam softly, cutting him off. "Amelia was there."

Jonas's hands, which had been resting atop on of the conference table chairs, froze. He stared unblinking at Sam for a moment, trying to process what she had just said. "Amelia?" he finally repeated, swallowing. "She was—?"

"The Tok'ra have been doing follow-up examinations on the tretonin experiment," Jack began to explain. "This is the third visit she's made to them in two years."

Jonas's eyes fixed on Jack's with a pained expression. "Amelia was offworld and you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't think there was any point in telling you."

"I don't understand," Jonas continued, a thousand questions and accusations running through his brain now, which was surprising considering how numb it had been two moments ago. "They couldn't do these examinations on Earth?"

"The situation with the Tok'ra has been complicated since you left," Sam said. "It was thought to be the most politically amicable—" She trailed off as a bustle in the corridor outside distracted all three of them. Major Denton was already leading his team, dirty and disheveled, into the conference room. Sam threw Jonas an apologetic look. "I'll explain later," she finished softly.

"Sir—" Major Denton began.

"What happened, Major? Quickly, please."

"Yes, sir. The attack began about half an hour ago. It was much the same MO as the attack on Ravenna, sir. They bombarded the base from the air, except it wasn't a hit and miss sort of deal. They knew exactly where and how often to strike. Almost immediately we began to suffer structural damage.

"We were just settling into our quarters for the night, which were in the part of the base nearest the ring transporter. When I realized what was going on, we tried to find Doctor Jackson and Miss Kinsey, but every passage we tried was blocked. I figured it wouldn't be long before the Goa'uld put troops on the ground as well, so I decided our best chance was to get back to the gate before then in the hope of returning with reinforcements."

"So you can't confirm the status of Doctor Jackson or Miss Kinsey?" Jack said.

"No, sir."

"So they could still be alive?"

"It's possible."

The weight in Jonas's chest lessened, but only a little bit.

"Sir, did I—?" Major Denton began. He looked very much like he was going to be ill.

"You did the right thing, Major. If they didn't die in the initial onslaught, then reinforcements will be their best chance. Believe me, I've been in plenty of Tok'ra bases. They're only advantageous as long as they remain secret. Once they've been rooted out, those tunnels are death traps."

"It's very probable the Goa'uld are looking to take prisoners," Sam pointed out. "If you're right about them knowing the layout of the base, they may have been trying to cut off as many Tok'ra from the rings as they possibly could. That's why the corridors around you were hit so heavily."

"I agree," said Jack. "You came under fire on the way back," he said, turning once more to Major Denton. "I take it the troops were on the ground sooner than you'd anticipated."

The Major nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Then I think Carter's guess about prisoners is all the more likely. Okay." Jack turned away from the table with a heavy sigh. He put his hands in his pockets and hung his head slightly, thinking hard. Finally he said, "We'll send a MALP in an hour. In the meantime, I want you four to continue to debrief, and some intelligence from our tok'ra guests wouldn't go unwelcome, either. Carter, see to that, please."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll call the President, see if I can't mobilize _Prometheus_ in case we need it. Then I'll call the Tok'ra High Council." He exhaled hard and looked around. "You have your orders, everyone."

* * *

Amelia's first attempt at a full breath after the last echoes of the cave-in had subsided resulted in a series of hacking coughs. She did not try opening her eyes until it was over. When she did, it was hard to make anything out. The luminescence of the Tok'ra tunnel walls was dimmed by the thick haze of dust ambling all about. She managed to clamber onto her hands and knees, relieved that so far she didn't appear to have broken anything crucial, though the toll of scrapes and bruises weren't going to be fun to live with.

"Malek?" Lying face up just beside her, the tok'ra had yet to move, and the fact was alarming her. Gingerly, she reached out and nudged his shoulder firmly. "Malek?" she repeated.

There was no reply. Unwilling to try moving him too much, Amelia confirmed that he was breathing, then sat back on her feet and looked around. Another couple of coughs later, she felt ambitious enough to stand up.

She could hear evidence of further impacts in other parts of the base. The walls around her still trembled, but Amelia did her best to ignore them. She needed to find help— the tok'ra would need to know Malek's whereabouts and his condition. And yet, it did not seem right to just leave him

She looked down at him, brow furrowed. Still he had not stirred. Amelia could only presume that the his people had once more been compromised. Based on Malek's angry reaction as they'd first heard the explosions, that was his belief as well. What if while she was away, the wrong people stumbled across him?

The sound of pounding footsteps in the open part of the tunnel behind her caused her to spin around, wide-eyed with sudden panic. Picking up a stray piece of rubble, she pressed herself as close to the side of the wall as possible, squinting through the haze. Ironically, it now seemed to be subsiding a little.

_Figures._

The newcomer was alone, and it only took Amelia about two seconds to recognize the silhouette. "Daniel!" she called, relieved, stepping out from her shadowed corner.

In other circumstances, she might have laughed, for her ambush caught the archeologist off-balance. He gave a small start, then exhaled once the sight of her had registered. "Amelia," he said, stepping over to her, clearly relieved. He looked down and caught sight of Malek. "Uh oh."

"Yeah," she said. "Do you know what's going on?"

"I can only guess we're under attack."

"Nice conjecture."

He sighed and looked up at the jagged heap of rubble that now blocked the tunnel wall. "SG-12?" he asked, worriedly.

"I don't know." Amelia's reply was grave. "We were still about fifty feet or so from the guest quarters before the cave-in. There's a chance they're okay."

"If they are alive, they're in better shape than we are," Daniel observed.

"The ring transporter?"

"Yup."

"Daniel, we need to go find the tok'ra. Have you talked to anyone?"

"No. After you guys left it was pretty quiet in my little room. Up until about five minutes ago."

"Go find them. I'll wait here with Malek."

"No, that's not such a good idea. We should all stick together." Daniel's shook his head with ultimate conviction.

"I don't want to move him. What if he's broken something?"

The sound of a groan and a couple of coughs near their feet broke off the argument. Amelia and Daniel looked down to see the Tok'ra commander blinking open his grit-filled eyes.

"Malek," Amelia said, hastily stooping down to her feet to help him to a sitting position. "Are you all right?"

The Tok'ra paused to breath for a moment. Then he gave a brave sort of smile. "We'll be fine, Amelia, but Malek needs to concentrate for a little while on healing me. That was a pretty nasty tumble. We took the worst of it."

"Aledar," Amelia said, blinking back her momentary surprise. Then reflecting, she added, "Yeah, I guess I owe you guys one, don't I?"

"Two, isn't it?" he said with a chuckle. Then he began coughing again.

"Can you walk a little, if we help you?" Daniel asked.

"What choice is there?" Aledar replied with a wince. "We have to find any other survivors. Get ourselves out of here." He held up an arm, which Daniel seized. Amelia put his other arm around her shoulders, and together she and Daniel hauled him to his feet.

Their progress down the tunnel was excruciatingly slow. It was also maddening, especially after the explosions ceased. Amelia tried to focus on one step at a time, and not think of the overall bleakness of the situation, or how Malek was probably beating himself up over it.

Aledar expressed concern when they only encountered one other tok'ra on the way to the central control area of the base. His name was Neshu, and he was very relieved to see Malek alive. Amelia allowed him to take over assisting Aledar and walked a short space behind the other three, constantly glancing behind them while Neshu filled the commander in on his version of the events since the attack. It wasn't very encouraging. Mostly his reports were on the tunnels he knew to be blocked and confirmed tok'ra deaths. As to the inactivity in the tunnels, Neshu was as ignorant about the bizarre circumstance as Aledar.

When Daniel, Aledar, and Neshu set foot into the control center, Amelia knew immediately by the way all three stiffened that something was wrong. Peering around them she saw several people, among them a handful of Jaffa and two tok'ra she thought looked familiar, guarding with zats and staff weapons a small group of captive tok'ra.

"Well," Daniel mumbled. "That explains _that_."

"Delek," said Aledar wearily, glaring angrily at one of the Tok'ra holding a zat. "What have you done?"

The other tok'ra— who would have been very handsome had it not been for the sneer plastered on his face— added a smirk to the sneer. "The scales have finally tipped, _human_. When the High Council placed their faith once more in a weakling such as Malek, I had no further use for them. The Tok'ra are crumbling legacy of nothing _but_ weakness. Did you really expect me to suffer among these ranks much longer?"

"So you allied yourself with the Goa'uld?" Daniel arched one disdainful eyebrow. "Wow, that was brilliant, considering their muscle has been defecting to the jaffa rebellion in droves."

"Which is something we hope you can help us with," said one of the strangers—a goa'uld— stepping forward with a smirk of his own, "Doctor Jackson." He jerked his head at the two nearest jaffa. "Put them with the others. Take their weapons, if they have any."

Amelia had been standing hesitantly by the door wondering if she ought to try making a run for it, but she really didn't know where she would go. She decided the safest— and most noble— course of action right now would be to stick with Malek and Daniel. Whatever happened, at least they'd be together.

"Now that we've captured our two main prizes," the head goa'uld continued, "I believe it is about time to get out of here. Our mistress is impatient to interrogate them both."

The jaffa had herded the four of them closer to the center of the room. The traitor called Delek seized Amelia by the arm. "What about this one?" he asked. "She is of no military or political value to the tau'ri." Amelia tried very hard not to think of the potential ramifications of his statement.

The leader looked indifferently at Amelia for a moment, and shrugged. "Kill her, if you like. It makes no difference to me."

"No."

Another goa'uld voice coming from behind them surprised the four newcomers. Reflexively, they all turned around and Amelia's blood ran cold.

The goa'uld who stood there was eyeing Amelia with a very unpleasant combination of triumph, disdain, and satisfaction. He must have come in through the same doorway they had a few minutes before. "I have interest in this one," he said, giving a sickening smile. "Bring her along."

"Dad," Amelia whispered, and gave a hard swallow.

* * *

**  
A/N**: Yeah, yeah. I'm evil, I know. But!! I was very strong and managed to keep my word of writing two complete chapters before posting this one. Along the way, I worked out quite a few more specifics of the plot, which theoretically _should_ make future chapters come easier. In the meantime, thank you all _so_ much for your patience. I assure you, as of right now I am not dead, and intend to keep going with this story. I just can't make any promises of speediness, is all. :-)

I hope you enjoyed the update, and please review!

Saché


	4. Reactions

**CHAPTER FOUR** - _Reactions

* * *

_

Jonas didn't wait for permission when he followed Jack, hot on his heels, into his office the moment the meeting was over. "Jack—"

The general was not caught by surprise. "I don't have to explain myself to you, Jonas," he said darkly, turning on Jonas with that posture that had intimidated many a person over the years.

Jonas refused to be intimidated. "Why?" he shot back. "Is there something to explain?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Why didn't you tell me Amelia was offworld?" Jonas accused, his voice rising with his anger.

"Because you didn't need to know!" Jack repeated.

"What has that got to do with it?" Jonas asked, flailing a querying arm in the air. He barely noticed Sam, who predictably had followed them, but stood uncertain to the side. "I would have wanted to know. You _knew_ that. What gives you the right?"

"Maybe the memory of that girl's face the _last_ time she had to say goodbye to you," Jack retorted.

"Sir—" Sam began hesitantly.

"Oh, so it was for _our_ good?" Jonas retorted, cutting her off. "What gives you the right?" he repeated, even more forcefully.

"_Nothing_, Jonas. Are you happy now? Nothing _gave_ me the right. I took it. I'm in command of this base, and I made a decision. Deal with it."

Jonas was too full of hurt to think of a response. He only shook his head and inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring.

"What would you have done, Jonas? If I'd have told you, how would it have changed anything?"

"I could have gone to see her," Jonas said. "I could have been there. Maybe—"

"No. You would be captive or dead now too, and I'd have even more of a tangle on my hands, and— actually that _wouldn't_ have happened, because I wouldn't have let you go! End of story."

Jonas opened his mouth, but Jack cut him off. "And none of this matters now, because it doesn't change the fact that Amelia and Daniel are in a lot of trouble."

Jonas closed his mouth and looked away, trying to calm his fear and pain. After a long, intense pause, he gave a curt nod. "You're right," he said, though stiffly. "What are you going to do?"

"First? I'm going to wait an hour, send a MALP, and see if we learn anything new."

"If there's a rescue team, I want to be on it."

"No, Jonas."

"General," Jonas said. At the tone in Jonas's voice, Jack looked up from where he'd begun opening folders on his desk. "If there's a rescue team," Jonas said slowly, not blinking as he held the other man's equally steady gaze, "I want to be on it."

Jack was silent for a long moment. "I'll think about it," he finally said. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to reach the President. Carter?"

"Yes, sir," said Sam softly. She reached out and tentatively put a hand on Jonas's arm. "Jonas? Come with me."

Jonas nodded. "General O'Neill," he said stiffly by means of an exit, and followed Sam from the room.

It was a long time before Sam spoke. In fact, it wasn't until they'd reached the door of Jonas's room— there didn't seem to be any other logical place to go— before she seemed to work up the nerve. She turned to face him as he put his hand on the doorknob. "He really does feel terrible about this, you know."

"Could have fooled me."

"Jonas," she chided softly, and looked away. "This is not his fault."

Jonas stared at the toes of his boots a long time before he murmured, "Yeah. I know." He looked up at Sam. "It just caught me so off guard," he said. "I… overreacted."

Sam put a sympathetic hand on Jonas's shoulder. "If they _are_ alive," she said, "then Amelia's probably got Daniel with her. He's been in this type of situation a lot." She hesitated, then added, "And General O'Neill will let you on the rescue mission."

"How do you know?"

"Instinct?" she said with a smile.

"We're talking about _me_ remember?" Jonas replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Jonas, he wasn't kidding when he said you'd earned his respect. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"It's not as important to me as it used to be."

"So I noticed," she said, raising her eyebrows at him.

Jonas shrugged.

"Well, whether or not you believe it, it's true. And he knows how you feel about Amelia. We all do. In any case, if you are coming, you'd better think about how to tell your people."

"You're right," Jonas said, realizing for the first time how this development would affect his original plans. He pondered for a moment. "I'll tell Kianna," he said. "But not anybody else until we're sure what's going on."

"Do you think they'll put the memorial service on hold for you?"

"They might. I'm not sure. But they'll definitely take his body back tomorrow with or without me. Jack won't have them in his hair."

"I'm sure that will be for the best."

"Yeah."

"Tell Kianna. I'm going to go find Teal'c. I'll see you in an hour."

"All right, Sam." When she was a few steps away, Jonas called out, "And Sam?"

She turned. "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Sam gave a comforting smile. "What are friends for?"

* * *

Jack hung up the phone. There was a protocol for exactly what calls needed to be made when someone from Earth went missing offworld, beginning with General Hammond and at times going as far as the President himself. Both those calls were long done, however. In fact, General Hammond had already been on his way to the SGC for an entirely different matter. Now Jack had just wrapped up with Agent Barrett at the NID, who was the last on the list. At some point he was going to have to notify Amelia's secret service detail as well, a task he was not looking forward to. 

There was a knock on his door, and he looked up to see Walter hovering just outside the with a Tok'ra woman at his elbow. Jack recognized her as one of the refugees who'd arrived from Bilkah with SG-12.

"Sir, this is Larassette," said Walter, nodding slightly at her.

"Come in." Jack waved at them with his hand, beckoning.

Immediately the Tok'ra took initiative, sidling past Walter to stand front and center of Jack's desk. She had pale skin, piercing blue eyes, and short, dark red hair. At first glance, Jack detected a potentially dangerous combination of beauty, confidence, and authority. This Tok'ra wasn't likely to make his day any easier.

"General O'Neill," she began. "I'm Larassette, head of Bilkah's security detail under Commander Malek. I'd like to offer thanks for sheltering us."

Jack tried opening his mouth to say 'you're welcome' but didn't exactly get the chance.

"I presume you will be taking measures to recover your people, though I think your chances of success very limited. Still, I'd like to be kept informed of your plans."

Jack closed his mouth again and blinked a couple times. Mildly affronted by her manner, he blurted, "Why?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't you wish for my assistance? Is that not why your Sergeant Harriman and Major Denton sought me out? And I need not remind you, General, that a great many Tok'ra still on that base are in danger as well. I know you consider our race to be heartless, but that is not the case. Working with me on this matter will be to the best advantage of both our peoples."

Resisting the urge to drag her to the door and point out the nametag bolted on it, Jack counted silently to three. "Larassette?" he finally asked.

"Yes, General."

"My _plans_ are I'm sending a recon in fifteen minutes," he said, glancing at the clock on the wall. "We'll know more then. As for your help, any information you can give me about the base that might help us would be appreciated. Major Denton thinks attack was meant to cut off the rings from the rest of the complex. Would you agree?"

The Tok'ra woman's answer was a steely, unhesitant nod.

"You're head of security— how do think you were compromised _this_ time?"

She was unable to conceal a reflexive glare, and Jack was mildly pleased to have finally found a Tok'ra that could be rattled. _She must be taking this personally_, he realized.

Larassette's eyes lost their focus and she seemed to be staring blankly at his bookshelf. When he realized what was going on, Jack idly wondered how much of their lives Tok'ra spent shifting back and forth between symbiote and host this way.

Her eyes snapped back, and she immediately lost most of her stiff posture. The hardness, however, remained. Now she was definitely glaring. "Larasette doesn't want to admit that this attack could only have happened if the Goa'uld had an operative within our ranks."

"I take it you're the host?" Jack asked.

"Yes," she said dismissively. "I'm Kasi." She edged around the two guest chairs and planted her hands on the desk, staring decisively at Jack. "General, the Bilkah base had only been established for a matter of weeks. Knowledge of its location was classified even among the ranks of the Tok'ra. I've personally monitored every person coming in and out of that base, and your SG-12 and Doctor Jackson were the first and only guests we ever had, including other Tok'ra."

"And Miss Kinsey," Jack corrected automatically.

"Yes. Don't believe we've been taking the problems we've had with security lightly, General. This breach was internal."

"Why doesn't Larassette think so?" Suddenly weary, Jack took a seat and indicated that the young woman should do the same, but she didn't seem to take interest.

Instead, she rolled her eyes. "Larassette thinks it's a mark of her weakness and failure and all this other ridiculous drivel. Nobody wants to pay attention to the fact that the Tok'ra are falling apart at the seams. Loyalty isn't exactly in high demand anymore."

"You must be a pretty new host," Jack observed.

She straightened and crossed her arms. "I am. What does that have to do with anything?"

"No, hey, it's cool. You have a personality. It's a refreshing change."

Kasi snorted slightly. Then without another word, the symbiote took over again.

"At this point," Larassette pointed out, "the cause of the attack matters little. On one point my host and I agree. The timing of so pointed an attack makes it probable that the Goa'uld knew of the presence of your friends. I have little doubt their intent was to take prisoners. I also believe that sending an information probe as you intend is not going to tell you more than you already know."

Jack was about to ask what _she_ would suggest he do, but movement in the doorway caught his eye. He looked that way just as Walter raised his hand to give another tentative knock. "Yes?" he asked.

"Sir, we're ten minutes to deadline," Walter reminded him, "and General Hammond and Major Davis are here."

* * *

Sarah was half inclined to believe that when she, General Hammond, and Major Davis arrived at the SGC, General O'Neill had completely forgotten they were coming. Of course, that wasn't true at all, and she recognized that something appropriately disastrous had to be going on if _both_ of her military escort were ushered urgently away and she was left to cool her heels in the mess. 

Since the military's unexpected visit to Antarctica, her thoughts had been mostly composed of the intelligence they had brought her and what little she'd been able to provide in return. She really, _really_ wanted to talk to Daniel about it, but until she saw General O'Neill, she couldn't ask to contact Daniel at the Tok'ra base.

The goa'uld who had escaped Earth in the body of Robert Kinsey had taken off with another goa'uld symbiote in his back pocket— or so they were going to have to presume. The goa'uld in question was an old acquaintance of Osiris's called Anat. A Canaanite deity later adopted by the Egyptians, Anat had been the mate of Seth, the sister of Baal, and had hated Osiris and Isis almost as much as they had hated her.

A brainstorming session with the military intelligence had led to a few other conclusions. Ex-Vice President Kinsey's actions had indicated both specific knowledge and specific orders. As far as Sarah knew, the only system lord currently in power who would both have insight into Anat's whereabouts and have even a _small_ motive to liberate her was Baal. This made sense. According to Major Davis, it was generally concluded to be Baal who had been responsible for planting symbiotes in all the Trust members in the first place.

If Baal was responsible, Sarah wondered whether he actually planned on freeing his one-time ally or not. She could think of a dozen arguments toward either end, but all these had to be put on the back burner for now. Far more pressing was the matter of Kinsey's escape. Robert Kinsey had known far too many things about the stargate program to make anybody doubt what a disaster this could be for the program and its leadership.

General Hammond's intent was first to retrieve Kinsey's daughter from her visit to the Tok'ra. Her connection to the new threat might come to nothing, he pointed out, but even Sarah could think of half a dozen ways it could go very, very badly.

"Doctor Gardner?"

Sarah's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Major Davis's voice, and she realized she'd been staring at her salad. She shook herself slightly. "Yes, Major?"

"General O'Neill is ready for you now."

"Oh. All right," she said, already pushing her chair back.

When she arrived in the conference room, Generals Hammond and O'Neill were conferring gravely. Beside them stood a red-headed woman in plain SGC fatigues. All three were bent around a large piece of paper rolled out on a table, and a whole lot of people were hustling busily around them. Sarah hesitated a moment in the doorway before General Hammond spotted her and waved her kindly over.

"Doctor Gardner," General O'Neill greeted as she stepped close.

"General," she returned, smiling. "It's good to see you, but it seems we came at a bad time." She looked around, then back at him, questions in her eyes.

"Yeah. That's an understatement." He crossed his arms. "I'm sorry I can't really talk to you long." The generals looked at one another grimly and he continued. "And I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"Sir?" she asked, turning her question to General Hammond.

"Doctor Jackson is missing," General Hammond said, "as is Miss Kinsey. The Tok'ra base on Bilkah was attacked."

"Daniel," Sarah breathed, worried. Then with realization she added, "And… Miss Kinsey?" She glanced between the two men. "Do you think it's connected to the ex-Vice President?" she asked.

"Unlikely," said the woman Sarah had noticed earlier. She was standing on the other side of General O'Neill. Sarah flinched at the tell-tale alien color of the woman's voice. Had she been paying closer attention, she would have recognized the presence of a symbiote. "If the Goa'uld _did_ attack the base because of the Tau'ri, I find it most likely that capturing Doctor Jackson was their object. Miss Kinsey's presence was a matter of unfortunate coincidence."

"Doctor Sarah Gardner, this is Larassette," General O'Neill said grudgingly. "Of the Tok'ra," he added. Sarah studied the woman out of the corner of her eye, wishing very much that there were several rooms between them. She'd hoped never to be anywhere near a symbiote of either allegiance ever again. Then there were the echoes of Osiris still inside her, raging with a different sort of loathing altogether. She swallowed and forced her eyes on General O'Neill again.

"The truth of it is, we have no idea exactly who was attacking, or why," said Jack. "We sent a MALP a few minutes ago, but it was shot to bits before we could get a good read on anything useful, and now it's too dark on Bilkah to try another one even if we thought it'd do any good. Too dark for a UAV too."

"How long is nightfall?"

"Seven hours," he said. "But it doesn't matter. We're going to have to go there with _Prometheus_. I'm assembling a team. They'll be leaving within the hour."

"SG-1?" Sarah asked.

"And a few others," he said, nodding.

Sarah was slightly jolted when the tok'ra's host spoke up in a bright, bossy sort of voice. "We can scout the base by entering one of the secret access tunnels I had grown," she said, pointing at the paper on the table. For the first time, Sarah took note of what seemed to be set of spidery floor plans. "Here or here. Only the selected members of my team knew about them, plus Commander Malek"

"I thought the Tok'ra didn't believe in cloak and daggery kind of stuff," said Jack, frowning at the places where her finger had rested on the map. The host looked at him with confusion. "Secrets," he clarified. "I thought they didn't believe in secrets between each other."

The host raised her eyebrows with near-derision. "As we've already discussed, General, times are changing." She straightened. "With the help of Colonel Carter, I should be able to manufacture some of the radioactive isotope we utilized in the assault against Anubis to help us move around the base undetected."

"You'd best get working on that, then," General O'Neill advised. "I want the _Prometheus_ gone within seven hours. Provided we can manage that, General," he added, turning to Hammond.

"Should be manageable."

"Great." O'Neill nodded at Major Davis, who was still standing just behind Sarah. "Escort Miss Kasi here to Colonel Carter's lab."

"Sir," said Major Davis with a nod.

When he and the Tok'ra had gone, General O'Neill exhaled loudly. "She's very… exuberant," he said at last. He reached up to rub his temples, then looked up at Sarah. "General Hammond here tells me you guys might have uncovered another hibernating goa'uld about to be leashed on the unsuspecting galaxy," he said. "On top of a goa'ulded Kinsey," he added with a scowl. "Just what I needed."

"I'm sorry, sir," Sarah said.

"It's not your fault."

"I should have remembered Anat was still on Earth," she protested, shaking her head.

"It's not your fault," he repeated with a sigh. He crossed his arms and frowned down at the layout of the compromised Tok'ra base still spread out before him. After a moment's reflection, he said, "You're welcome to stay here, Sarah, until this is over. I know you'll be worried about Daniel."

Touched, Sarah didn't say anything for a moment. Then she gave a quiet smile. "Thank you, General. I think I'll accept."

"Good to hear. In the meantime, I'd like you to get together any notes you've made on the Kinsey thing and this new—" he looked at General Hammond. "What's the new snakehead's name again?"

"Anat," said Sarah and General Hammond simultaneously.

"Right. Assemble your notes and anything else you want to add. Bring me a report. I want to send it on the mission in case it's actually relevant."

"I'll get on it right away, sir," she said, relieved and gratified to be asked to contribute.

"Thank you, Sarah."

* * *

Jack watched Daniel's former colleague walk away, and turned to General Hammond, relieved to finally have a moment alone with his predecessor. "I need to ask your advice about something." 

"Ask anything you'd like," Hammond said. "But I already think you're doing and admirable job handling this crisis."

"_Reacting_ is what I'm doing. I wish the MALP had given us more intel."

"So what do you need to ask me?"

"Jonas is here. Along with a full Langaran delegation."

As Jack has expected, this was news to General Hammond. "Really? Why?"

"Professor Kieran died. They were here to escort his body home. I'm sure you would have read about it as soon as you got back to Washington."

General Hammond's sage face already reflected his realization. "Does Jonas know what happened on Bilkah?"

Jack nodded. "Unfortunately, he was with Carter when the gate activated. He was there for the quick debriefing that Denton gave me. He knows about Daniel and Amelia."

"As commanding officer, you had the right to excuse him from the room."

"Yeah, I know." Jack let the awkward silence hang for a moment.

"But you didn't," Hammond observed. "Any particular reason?"

Jack hesitated a little longer before saying, "Official or no, I guess I figured he had a right to know. After everything that went on when Amelia was here…" He made a face.

General Hammond gave a knowing chuckle. "Believe me Jack, I was there too, remember?"

"He wants to go on the rescue mission."

"Can you think of any reason for him not to?"

"No," Jack confessed. "He was on my team for over a year. He knows what he's doing. Besides, if I was in his shoes, I'd know I'd want to go."

"You can't go, Jack."

"I know, sir."

"So don't be resentful that Jonas has the freedom to volunteer. Just be grateful that Sam and Teal'c will have an old hand around to watch their backs. Jonas learned from the best."

"Hmmn, maybe I should have asked for flattery up front," Jack observed.

General Hammond chuckled again. "Was that all?"

"Yes, sir, thank you."

"Well, in that case, I've got a space ship to mobilize. Mind if I use your phone?"

"Yes, but no sitting in the chair. I just got this one broken in."

* * *

**A/N**: I always find that shouting match between Jack and Jonas to be unbelievably hot. Also, the discussion between Jack and Hammond at the end is one of my favorite scenes in this fic. 

Finally, Larasette the Tok'ra was loosley inspired by the character of Mallory O'Brien on _The West Wing_ and looks like her too. If you'd like a visual, either watch the show (it's worth it, and she's in the pilot episode!) or check out Allison Smith (the actress's) profile at imdb.

Sorry about the wait, but I did hold to my resolution. There are now nine completed chapters under my belt, and I estimate I'm close to halfway done.


	5. Labyrinth

**CHAPTER FIVE** - _Labyrinth

* * *

_

After their initial capture, Amelia, Daniel, Malek, and what remained of the loyal Tok'ra on Bilkah were escorted up a long, slowly-inclining tunnel to the surface. Night had long since fallen, but Amelia got a decent glimpse of the rocky landscape from the lights of several small to medium-sized ships that had landed on the surface. Then they were herded into one of the smaller ships, which took off for space and docked with a much bigger ship, and then they were marched down a whole lot of corridors that all looked alike until they were finally split up into smaller groups and put in cells. Amelia was relieved that she was not separated from Daniel or Malek.

"What kind of ship is this?" she asked quietly when the sounds of Jaffa boots had finally faded.

"Ha'tak," both Daniel and Malek replied.

"Mothership," Daniel added.

"Aha," said Amelia, and exhaled slowly.

"I'm sorry about your father, Amelia," Daniel began.

She looked over at him. "It wasn't your fault," she said. "Who could have seen _that_ coming?"

"Yeah." He was quiet a moment, then looked confused. "Couldn't have seen what coming, exactly? Your father being implanted with a goa'uld in the first place, or him popping up on Bilkah?"

"The first."

"Ah, okay."

"If I thought him showing up on Bilkah was even remotely close to anything you needed to apologize for, I'd really have problems," Amelia pointed out.

"You know, when you're right, you're right," Daniel said, smiling slightly. "You, uh, seem pretty unsurprised by his… new _status_," he remarked politically. "I'm guessing you already knew about it."

She nodded. "Agent Barrett tracked me down in Seattle ten days ago. He told me what he knew. Until now, though, I didn't know whether or not my father was still alive."

"None of us did."

"Yeah, well, it's worse for the rest of my family. None of the rest of them have an Agent Barrett." She sighed and looked around the ship with a creased brow and shivered. "Of course, look where being in the know has gotten me. So what happens now?"

Daniel considered a moment. "Well, as Jack would say, if they stick to the script we'll be presented to some overdressed, condescending Goa'uld – either a System Lord or a wannabe – and we exchange hostilities and or sarcasm, and then it can go any number of ways." He looked at Malek. "What do you think, Commander?"

"Your assessment seems fairly accurate," Malek said. "Though I must say, I do not share your flippant attitude towards the situation."

"Shouldn't we be trying to escape?" Amelia asked, looking dubiously around the cell. "I mean, I know you guys are old hands at this, but…" With her adrenaline level finally easing off, Amelia couldn't help but notice just how thick the walls around them were or think about how many Jaffa were prowling this ship. Most terrifying of all was the thought of the vast, chilling void of space between here and home.

"No," Malek advised, shaking his head. "There are far too many Jaffa. This vessel has been outfitted to its maximum capacity. It is fully battle-ready. Security is much too high to risk an escape from the ha'tak." He winced, and reached down to clutch his shin.

"Are you okay?" Amelia asked in concern, crossing the cell and reaching out to help him sit.

Malek was breathing heavily but he managed to nod. "It is nothing that a symbiote cannot deal with. Severe bruising – I should be fine with a few hours' rest."

"Yeah, I think we could all do with that," Daniel agreed. "You guys try to get some sleep. I think we'll probably be in hyperspace for a while. I'll wake you if I hear anybody coming."

"What about you?" Amelia asked concernedly.

Daniel gave a shrug and a mild smile. "What's the worst that could happen?" he said. "I doze off and the Jaffa come back to find us all drooling on ourselves? Anyway, you've been up all day and Malek needs to heal. Go on, lay down. It's okay."

"It does seem the wisest course, for now," Malek agreed, breathing slightly easier now.

"All right," Amelia consented. She helped Malek to lie down on the hard bench of the cell before crossing over to her own dismal corner. She took off her jacket to use as a pillow, thinking as she laid her head down that between the unyielding bed and the danger that surrounded them she wasn't likely to fall asleep.

* * *

As with everything, the Langaran delegation kicked up a ruckus when Jonas divulged his intention to join SG-1 and _Prometheus_ on the mission to Bilkah. For the first time in a long time, Jonas relished the feeling of both not caring and ignoring them.

"The radiation team is on site again next week," he said to Kianna, who stood nearby with First Minister Dreylock, watching as he packed his few belongings back into his duffel bag. "You'll need to be in the lab in case they have any questions." He looked up at her. "I'm sorry to put you on the spot like this, but—"

She waved a small hand. "I know what to do, Jonas."

On impulse, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a knobby key. "Here's the key to my flat," he said. "In case you need to get in for any reason, or in case I'm gone longer than I expect."

"I'm sure you'll be back soon," she said with a strained smile. "Just be careful."

"I will," Jonas assured her.

"I hope you find your friends," she added.

Jonas opened his mouth, hesitant, half-desirous to tell her here and now the full importance of why he was going, but in the end he held it inside. He wouldn't mind telling Kianna, but First Minister Dreylock was another matter altogether.

"I agree." Now the First Minster spoke up with all her dignified politeness. "Though I must emphasize once more the Kelownan government's disapproval with this choice on your part, as does the United Langaran Committee."

Jonas shouldered his bag. "Are they going to do anything to try and stop me?" he asked pointedly, already knowing that he was far too entrenched in both the scientific and the political headway of the past year for them to do anything more than blow smoke.

First Minister Dreylock exhaled softly but stiffly, lips pressed together, eyeing him with a strange mix off fond annoyance and grudging approval. "No," she said at last.

"Then their objection is noted," he said.

He stepped around the bed and met Kianna halfway for a brief hug goodbye, then headed out the door. In the hallway, he shouldered past Councilors Eremal and Tarthis, who were both scolding and imploring him so indignantly that it was impossible to distinguish one's words from the other. He kept walking, grateful that the airmen Jack had assigned to the elevator for the duration of the Langarans' stay prevented the annoying politicians from following him any further.

When he arrived in the briefing room, where Jack had told him to report, he was pleased and surprised to spot General Hammond talking to Sam near the window. The General's full dress blues contrasted sharply with Sam's plainer field gear.

"Mr. Quinn," Hammond greeted with his warm smile as Jonas approached. "It's good to see you, son."

"You too, sir," Jonas said. "It's been a long time."

"How are things on Kelowna?"

"For me, pretty much the same as always," Jonas said with a sigh. "If the situation wasn't so serious I'd be glad to be getting away for a while. But beyond the political circus, the rest of the people are doing fine. We're rebuilding from Anubis's siege and from the earthquakes. There's a lot to get done."

"Sam tells me that Doctor Cyr seems to have recovered well from what happened."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I'm grateful you're going along on this mission, Jonas."

"Thank you, sir." Jonas looked around the room, which had been steadily getting fuller. He recognized the faces of some of the Tok'ra who'd come through the stargate with SG-12. Teal'c came through the door and, spotting the three of them, started in their direction. "Just how many people are on this rescue team, anyway?" Jonas asked.

"Five, not counting the crew of _Prometheus_," Sam replied. "You, me, Teal'c, and two of the Tok'ra. We'll brief you on the specifics of our plan along the way."

"So what are the rest of the Tok'ra doing here?" Jonas asked. As he spoke, the door to the General's office opened and Jack stepped out.

"They'll be gating to another of their bases as soon as we're gone," Sam said more quietly as the din of the room's conversation died swiftly down.

Jack had been looking at his watch, but now he looked up. "Well, kids," he said, looking between Jonas and what remained of SG-1, "it's about time to go. Forty-five seconds, by my count."

Jonas frowned and turned to Sam, a question unspoken on his lips. Her only response was to grin and hold up a small gray button-like device. "Stand close," was all she'd say, speaking lowly. Jonas didn't have the luxury to question her mysterious behavior, because Jack was still talking.

Two of the Tok'ra broke away from their group and came to stand beside Jonas and Teal'c. One was a woman with dark red hair, the other a tall man with an aquiline nose and busy eyes. "Jonas, this is Larassette and Natear of the Tok'ra," said Jack. "Folks, this is Jonas. I believe the rest of you know each other. Bring our people back home, okay?" He glanced over at General Hammond and the smallest of smiles touched the corners of his mouth. He looked back at the rescue team. "And Godspeed."

Jonas glanced down at the small metal object Sam held in her hand. He barely had time to take in its shape before Sam reached out with her other hand and grabbed his shoulder. Then the light shifted before his eyes and behind them. The next thing he knew, he was standing on the gray deck plates of a very familiar ship.

"Ladies and Gentleman," said Sam, "Welcome aboard _Prometheus_." She looked over at Jonas and winked. "Again."

* * *

"Amelia."

She woke with a slight jerk. Her first thought was how cold it was. Inhaling deeply, she sat up a bit, propping her upper body on her hands and looking around. Daniel was leaning over her, watching her face expectantly and Malek was likewise on his feet, standing with a half-alert posture near the heavy bars that formed the door of their cell.

"What's going on?" she asked groggily.

"We've stopped," Daniel informed her. "Malek thought we should wake you."

"How long was I asleep?"

"Nearly six hours," was Malek's sure reply. "As was I." He glanced back at her briefly, then returned his attention to the cell bay visible beyond the bars.

Still feeling stiff and lethargic, Amelia sat up fully and twisted around to get her feet on the floor. "I'm hungry," she blurted. Then she winced. "And sore."

"Yeah, unfortunately, they haven't seemed concerned about feeding us."

The three prisoners waited in the maddening silence, speaking little, until the telltale tromping of heavy boots on metal deck plates could be heard, distantly at first, but steadily growing louder until about seven Jaffa rounded the nearest corner and approached the cell. They were led by Amelia's father.

"Where are we?" Daniel asked almost immediately. "Why have we stopped?"

The goa'uld glanced over at the archaeologist, dead-pan and smirked slightly, then turned his gaze straight on Amelia. "That one," he commanded, pointing.

Amelia gave a soft whimper in the back of her throat and stepped reflexively behind Daniel, trying her best not to cry.

"No," said Malek, stepping close to the bars and staring at the goa'uld without flinching. "I'm the commander of the base. I'm the one you want."

The goa'uld with the face of her father nodded to the Jaffa nearest on his left, who pressed a button he wore on his wrist. The bars began to raise into the ceiling with a shuddering clang. Then two of the Jaffa started forward into the cell. As he passed by Malek, the nearest Jaffa took half a heartbeat to pound the Tok'ra heavily in the back of the head, knocking him to the floor.

"Malek!" Amelia shrieked, but she couldn't keep her eyes on her fallen friend for long. The two Jaffa were heading for her now, and though Daniel did his best to stay with her, she knew there wasn't anything to be done. Nevertheless, the two of them backed all the way into the far corner before the Jaffa shoved Daniel hard to one side and then seized Amelia roughly by the upper arms.

"She doesn't know anything that can help you, Kinsey," Daniel called out as Amelia and her escort passed by the body of Malek, crumpled unconscious on the floor. As the cell bars were lowered once more, Daniel continued, "She was just there for the Tretonin treatment – you know that!"

The goa'uld must have decided Daniel was becoming annoying enough to deserve attention. "Silence now, human, or I'll see that her pain is greater and longer lasting."

Twisting around slightly, Amelia was able to get a view back at the cell, where Daniel was now standing just behind the bars and glaring at her father. Then he turned his face to her, full of compassion and encouragement. It was enough to make two hot tears finally slip over her eyelids onto her cheeks and she swallowed hard.

The goa'uld was still staring at Daniel thoughtfully. "To answer your first question, _Tau'ri_, we are at present between star systems. I am taking a slight detour on private business for my master—" his eyes flicked over towards Amelia and he added, "— and myself. How long we end up staying is somewhat dependent on you, Doctor Jackson. But know that no rescue party will be finding us here."

Then he turned, passing the Jaffa and leading the way around the corner. Amelia's escort jerked her hard to face her forward and she was forced to follow, now for the first time truly alone.

* * *

The trip through hyperspace lasted a little over a standard Earth day. Jonas spent his time reviewing the mission briefing, taking a tour of the upgrades on _Prometheus_ with Sam, and attempting to get some sleep. He also briefly read over the notes Dr. Gardner had provided on a potential new Goa'uld threat, but that was more from a desire to keep himself occupied than any particular concern.

Just before they came out of hyperspace, the members of the rescue team assembled together and Larassette administered the isotope that would hopefully keep them free of goa'uld detection once they'd gained access to the base. Jonas flexed his hand after his injection, remembering – not fondly – all that had befallen him the last time he'd taken the isotope. He reached up and touched the back of his head, painful memories of Anubis's probe still fresh even after a year's time.

Still, there had been no denying the success of the isotope as a strategic advantage. Another such advantage was the recent addition of Asgard beaming technology to _Prometheus_, which was a technology Jonas had been most eager in getting Sam to show him.

"We pulled out of hyperspace briefly a little while ago to get a read on the planet," Sam was now informing him as they made last minute checks of their clothing, gear, and supplies. "The ship's censors detect no mother ships in orbit, meaning if they took prisoners, they're probably long gone with them by now." She looked grim.

Jonas nodded knowingly. "But if that be the case, getting the surface is still our best chance of tracking them down."

She nodded back. "Yes. On the bright side, it will make it a lot easier for _Prometheus_ to get in close enough to beam us down to the designated coordinates. Hopefully, she'll have us on the ground and be on her way again before any goa'uld forces remaining on the surface have a chance to react."

"_Prometheus_ isn't staying in orbit?" Jonas asked.

"No. Colonel Pendergast will jump away, then double back and approach at minimum power and hide in the gravity signature of Bilkah's largest moon until we make contact."

"Sounds like a plan," Jonas observed, tightening the last strap on the top of his vest.

"Here, you'll need these in case we get separated," Sam said, passing out little metal markers to Jonas and the two Tok'ra. "They're locator beacons for the beaming technology."

"Colonel Carter," came Colonel Pendergast's voice over the intercom, "We're getting ready to drop out of hyperspace. Is your team ready?"

Sam walked over and clicked a corresponding intercom button on the wall nearby. "Ready and awaiting your mark, sir."

"We'll be beaming you down exactly five seconds after we get a lock on the coordinates, Colonel, be advised."

"Copy that."

Jonas glanced over to a nearby and observed as the distortion of hyperspace swiftly halted to the pinpoints of distant stars. He wished briefly that they were on the bridge, for he knew the Colonel must have executed a close and dramatic approach to the planet in order for the swift beam deposit plan to work, but from this vantage, Jonas could not see the planet. He turned back to his team and flexed his fingers anxiously on the grip of his P-90.

A few minutes later Colonel Pendergast's voice came over the speakers again. "Okay, Colonel Carter, we have a lock on the coordinates. Prepare to beam on my mark, and good luck."

The Colonel's voice proceeded with a countdown from five, and Jonas could feel his heart speeding up in anticipation. A half second after the Colonel called "mark" the white light of the beam surrounded the small team. A moment later Jonas was blinking away the sear of light from the beam and staring around a dry, cloud-strewn night on the hot, rocky surface of Bilkah.

"You're on point, Larassette," Sam muttered. "Teal'c, Natear, take the rear. Jonas, you're with me."

Loose, dry sand twisted around their ankles as the small team progressed past convoluted, windswept rock formations scattered at random as far as the eye could see. The reddish light cast by the planet's two moons hinted at both the age and proximity of this system's star. Jonas glanced briefly in the direction he thought he remembered the stargate should be, but could see no hint of it.

The Tok'ra Larassette seemed unfalteringly confident in their direction. After about ten minutes' walking she stopped beside a particularly knobbly-looking stone which came up to about Jonas's torso. It had a flattish top. Larassette brushed a little sand off the top and took a device out of her pocket. Like a lot of other goa'uld and Tok'ra technology, the device fit snugly onto her hand – in this case the middle and forefingers of her right hand. She looked briefly around, frowned, and pointed at a patch of sand a couple of yards to their left. "Stand there," she instructed. After the four of them had complied, she waved her hand over the knobbly, flat-topped rock and control panel which had been camouflaged to look like the stone around it rose up a bit, full of white crystals.

"I couldn't use rings." Now it was the host, Kasi, who was speaking. "There was no point to it, after all. Any idiot Jaffa patrol with a cargo ship could find them on a whim." She was rearranging the order of the crystals as she spoke. Jonas glanced briefly aside to Teal'c, who seemed nonplussed by the Tok'ra's flippant remark about his race. "Of course, we've always used rings for our main entrance, which the goa'uld well know, but once the goa'uld learn of our presence on any given planet, most of our advantage is already lost. All the more reason," she said, fixing the final crystal the way she wanted it, "an old-fashioned trap door and stairs were more to my tastes here."

As she spoke, a section of sand where SG-1 had just been standing shifted, rumbled, then collapsed in on itself and into the ground below, as a dark square of underground revealed itself in the ground before them. True to Kasi's words, a set of plain stone steps progressed down into the darkness. The Tok'ra host was surveying her work with a smug expression.

Sam switched on the light beside the scope on her gun and pointed it down the stairs. "Okay. Everybody, on me. Teal'c, you're on our six again." As he followed her down, Jonas mimicked her in flipping on his own light.

The walls of the tunnel were the familiar long, cords of gray crystal Jonas had seen on numerous occasions before, but they lacked any of the luminescence he'd been expecting. The only light came from those on Jonas and Sam's guns. The Tok'ra both carried zat guns and Teal'c, as always, bore his staff weapon.

Kasi edged past Jonas and joined Sam in the lead. "The tunnel accesses the main part of the base about three hundred meters this way," she said in a hushed voice. Without any further discussion, the rest of the team followed behind, walking briskly. They made it to the end of the tunnel in short order, where it seemed to dead-end into a black hulk of wall.

Sam held up a hand to call for silence, then beckoned Kasi onward. The Tok'ra stepped up to the wall and raised her small hand device again. With a lot of creaking and shaking, the thick crystals that formed the wall shifted out of the way to make a squat doorway that accessed a brighter tunnel beyond. The noise caused Sam to wince, but she waved hand signals at the others to follow Kasi, who'd already ducked through the doorway.

Jonas and Teal'c were the last to follow, both having to bend over a little to get through. They veered to the left, the way all the others had gone, but just as the Jonas was fixing his eyes towards what would greet them in this new leg of the maze, he heard a loud gasp from the young Tok'ra host who was guiding them. A split second later, he saw them too. Seven figures – one Tok'ra male and six Jaffa, blocking the corridor and the rescue team's path.

"Delek," Kasi whispered. Her eyes were wide with unmistakable shock.

The opposing Tok'ra stood before them, arms crossed, staring back at Kasi with triumphant eyes. He had some cause to be smug, Jonas figured, since all the Jaffa behind him had their staff blasts open and aimed, a perfect line of defense, but by now the five intruders had their weapons drawn too, putting the Tok'ra stranger squarely in the crossfire. Sam already had her P-90 aimed straight at his heart, and she was glaring.

"I thought you'd be coming soon, Larassette," the Tok'ra, apparently Delek, said. "We detected the arrival of the Tau'ri ship, however brief its stay."

Kasi's features twisted from shock to anger, and her eyes flared bright white light. "You have betrayed all those who called you friend, Delek," said Larassette with scathing and despondent surety. Her voice tripped a little as she added, "Including me."

To Jonas's surprise, Delek's hard eyes softened ever so slightly. "You're free to join me, if you wish. You know that." He uncrossed his arms and held out a hand. "Think of what we could do together with real power behind us, Larassette." Then he repeated, like a caress, "Together."

She stared stonily back. "Anything you have to offer me now, Delek, was bought by the blood of our brothers and sisters. Even now you betray the trust I placed in you when I told you of this escape tunnel. The lives of Natear and the Tau'ri humans are now in danger because of my weakness."

"Come with me, and I will let them live," he entreated, stretching his hand out more strongly.

Larassette's eyes narrowed in pain and her mouth turned down in livid bitterness. "I will not trust again," she said simply. She raised her zat and fired it at him. Twice.

Jonas heard Sam shout "Fire!" a split-second before the Jaffa who stood behind the crumpling Delek began hurling a volley of staff-blasts at the cornered team. Jonas, who had been thinking hard about the tactical aspects of their current position – most of which were bad – immediately ducked to his knees, the better to allow Teal'c a clear shot at the opposing Jaffa from behind. Then he focused on aiming and firing his P-90 at the joints in the Jaffa armor – shoulder joints, knee caps, anywhere to cause some distracting damage, leaving Sam, Teal'c, and the other two to finish them off.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Tok'ra Natear tumble to his knees beside him on the tunnel floor, then keel over, either unconscious or dead. Okay, four against six. That still wasn't too bad, although in the close quarters of this tunnel, Jonas wondered how long it could really go on. On the other hand, now that he looked, he saw that Teal'c had already taken out three of the lesser Jaffa, and even as he watched, Sam shot a fourth clean through the head with one well-placed volley. Teal'c was advancing menacingly on the remaining two, and Jonas rose to his feet to join him, grateful that the nature of the rescue mission had dictated they all wear full protective gear, including helmets.

The rearmost Jaffa didn't wait around for Teal'c to kill him. With narrowed eyes, he shouted orders in goa'uld at his comrade to hold the line and turned and dashed down the other direction of the tunnel as fast as he could, heading for a bend a few meters away, which would provide cover.

"Jonas, hurry, he'll be going for reinforcements. Teal'c, stay with the Tok'ra!" Sam ordered, and she charged off after the lone escaping Jaffa just as a final expert blast from Teal'c's staff weapon brought the fifth Jaffa to his knees.

With quick feet, Jonas darted around all the fallen bodies after Sam. Already their quarry had disappeared from sight around the bend. Sam skidded to a halt at the junction, dropped to one knee, pulled a mirror device from a pocket on her vest and used it to peer around the tunnel. Jonas halted just behind her and focused for two seconds on catching his breath until Sam nodded a hasty all clear. He reached out a hand and helped her quickly to her feet and they tore around the corner together, only to see the Jaffa already nearing the next bend.

Sam raised her weapon and got off a quick round, which caught the edge of the Jaffa's shoulder. He faltered slightly but did not stop. "Crap," she muttered. "Come on."

The chase continued like this around several more bends. Almost immediately, Sam chose to trade caution in favor of speed, and stopped looking around corners before they turned them, or else they would soon lose their prey altogether. Finally, they made a turn at which point they could no longer see where he had disappeared to.

"Perfect," Sam remarked, scowling. She turned her attention to the dust of the tunnel floor, trying to decipher which of the many criss-crossed footprints would belong to their fleeing opponent.

Jonas could not help but feel that by now lost all advantage of the situation. He opened his mouth, his intent to suggest to Sam that they give up the chase, rejoin Teal'c, and come up with a new plan. Before he spoke, though, movement from the opposite end of the tunnel caught his eye.

"Sam!" he shouted as a whole fresh group of Jaffa came marching around the far corner.

She looked up at his cry, but this time they were both much too slow. Pain and memory seared through Jonas's frame as an expertly aimed staff blast caught him square in the back of his right shoulder, and he hit the ground hard as his vision faded to night.

* * *

**A/N**: Oh, not much by way of specifics, I guess. The usual apologies for the unforgiveably long time between updates. But! Partly because I'm still holding true to my resolution to work way, way ahead on this fic and as far as the draft goes, I think it's probably about two-thirds written. More good news, I've been writing a lot more in general lately, so I think I can safely say it will not be such a long wait next time. :-)


	6. Of Cruelty and Reprieve

**CHAPTER SIX** - _Of Cruelty and Reprieve_

(_Warning - this chapter contains a bit of physical and mental torture. Nothing too extreme, I promise. Still within a PG-13 rating. It also contains hot guys being protective and comforting. Maybe that should come with a warning label too. Hehe._)

* * *

In an ideal galaxy, Jack O'Neill would have received a follow-up transmission from _Prometheus_ about an hour or so after the one which had informed him of the rescue team's successful beam to the surface of Bilkah. This theoretical second transmission would have relayed to him news of the successful _return_ from the surface of Bilkah, with all of his people safely intact and Daniel and Amelia returned.

Eight years of intergalactic travel, however, had cured Jack O'Neill of the nagging tendency to place hope in the plan, even a faint hope. Which is not to say there couldn't be happy endings – goodness knew the presence of his butt in the general's chair was proof enough of that – but 'the plan' usually ceased to exist around about the same time the gate made that _ffttzzing_ sound when it turned off.

As such, he did not overreact when _Prometheus_ reported back over three hours later instead of one. The news it brought, on the other hand, was definitely deserving of a good, heartfelt, "Oh, crap."

Of the five members of the rescue team, only two had returned – Teal'c and Larassette. The other Tok'ra was confirmed dead, and now both Carter and Jonas were MIA. Jack was far from pleased.

"Let me get this straight," he said, sitting up higher in his chair to stare at Teal'c and Larassette across the briefing table. "You want to send a rescue team to rescue the rescue team?" A day and a half later, Teal'c and Larassette were back on Earth and giving him a complete and thorough debriefing. "You got your butts ambushed the first time!"

"We're not planning on going back to Bilkah, General," said Larassette. The Tok'ra remained as forward and gritty as she'd been before they'd left for the mission. Her host, however, had barely said two words. Though he'd known her for approximately… thirteen hours altogether, Jack recognized this meant that something was wrong.

"What then?" he retorted.

"The next logical step would be to determine where your friends were taken," Larassette replied, nonplussed.

"I don't understand," spoke up Sarah Gardner, who was sitting to his left. Larassette had requested Sarah's presence at the briefing, but hadn't said why. At Teal'c's urging, Jack had agreed. If Daniel's friend felt any bafflement at being included, she had not conveyed it that Jack could see. "How do you even know where to begin looking for them?" she asked.

"And here's another question," Jack added, still flipping through Teal'c's mission report. He was still a bit too agitated to read it properly. "How is it we were able to beam you two out, but not Carter or Jonas?"

Teal'c and Larassette exchanged knowing looks. "We're not sure. I believe the goa'uld were deliberately jamming the signal," Larassette said.

"It would appear that the goa'uld have predicted our use of this technology and have taken preventative measures," Teal'c added.

"How the heck would they know to do that?" Jack insisted. "We just installed the damn thing on the ship a month ago!"

"The former Vice-President Kinsey would have known that the tau'ri had access to this technology," Teal'c said. "It is possible the goa'uld inside Kinsey relayed this intelligence to his superiors after his escape from Earth."

"Thought this out, have you?" Jack asked. "There's no evidence that Kinsey's escape and this whole Tok'ra base fiasco are even connected."

"On the contrary, General," said Larassette, "we have very compelling evidence."

"We do?" Jack blinked over at Teal'c, who nodded his stoic concurrence.

"That is why I requested the presence of Doctor Gardner," the Tok'ra added, looking over at Sarah.

Larasette picked up a pen, opened the folder sitting in front of her, and drew something on the inside of it with a series of short, quick strokes. Then she turned the folder towards Sarah and pushed it across so that the young archeologist could see it. "This was the symbol of the Jaffa we fought in the tunnels."

Sarah tilted her head to study the symbol briefly, and then nodded. "Anat," she said softly. "That is her symbol. I'm surprised she's amassed any Jaffa so swiftly."

"As am I," the Tok'ra said.

"How do you think she did it?" Jack asked.

"I am not sure."

"You're not _sure_?" he echoed.

"An alliance perhaps? With the recent victories being made by the Jaffa rebellion, it is becoming increasingly difficult for the system lords to find Jaffa in whose loyalty they can depend. Without special resources, it is very unlikely Anat could have inspired any Jaffa to her cause using conventional means."

"And this isn't cause for concern?"

"I think you would agree, General," Larassette said, narrowing her eyes slightly, "that Anat's methods in this case are irrelevant. It is clear she was involved in both the attack on Bilkah and the ambush of our first mission."

"Clear to you, perhaps," Jack muttered, pulling the folder over to get a peek at the drawing for himself. It was an axe with two blades. He looked up at Teal'c. "What do you think?" he asked.

"It is by no means certain we will be able to determine the location of our missing friends," the Jaffa said sagely, "but I do believe this clue of the goa'uld Anat is the place to begin. I will go to Master Bra'tac and the leaders of the Jaffa resistance to see what news they might have of this new threat."

Jack nodded. "Good thinking."

"General," spoke up Sarah softly. "I'd like to go with him, if you don't mind." She stared blankly at the tabletop, and her fingers tapped restlessly beside the now-abandoned folder.

"Sarah?" he replied, puzzled.

She glanced up. "My history—" she faltered. "I mean, _Osiris_'s history with Anat may come in handy. Anyway, I think it's about time I gave a little something back, don't you agree?"

"Sarah, you know you don't have to—"

"Please, General," she cut him off sharply, eyes hardening slightly. "Daniel risked a lot to try and save me. More than once. I can quite literally bring something to the table here that no one else can. I need to come out of hiding." She paused, holding his eyes as if expecting him to continue his protest. It was tempting, but Jack did not rise to the bait. "My mind is made up," she finally concluded.

Slowly, he gave a nod. "Okay then." Glancing over at Larassette, he raised his eyebrows. "You?"

"I would like to be allowed on this mission, General, with your permission, of course," she said. "If not, I will insist upon returning to my people to pursue an investigation of my own."

Jack had been around long enough to know that something was going on with Larassette, something that he wasn't going to find in any mission report. He didn't really have a lot of time to decide what to do about it, though. Though his gut told him she wasn't precisely an enemy, there was an X-factor sneaking around in there that could be a thousand different kinds of dangerous. Typical Tok'ra, then.

"All right," he said, returning her deliberate gaze. "But if you want to be included in our little tau'ri party, you're going to have to answer to Teal'c. He's in command. Those are my terms. Agreed?"

Another nod. "Agreed."

"Okay then. Rescue mission, take two."

* * *

It was cold.

The goa'uld had taken her jacket; she was wearing the plain back short-sleeved t-shirt that was a standard part of offworld gear. Yet though she drew her breath through shuddering lips and teeth threatening to chatter, Amelia welcomed the coolness of the deck plates on her cheek and the blessing of immediate quiet.

The chilly floor brought an additional form of solace. Weakly, Amelia turned her left hand over and met the surface with her fingertips. She'd thought she'd finally broken beyond tears, but this new injury had proven her wrong.

According to Daniel, they'd been trapped aboard the ha'tak for almost five days. Amelia knew she was going to just have to take his word for it. Any personal effects they'd had when they were captured had been confiscated, including Daniel's wristwatch. In a place with no sun or moon, where Amelia had barely even seen out a window, time had taken on a new definition. Her life no longer centered around the dance of day and night, but a crueler one of torture and reprieve.

She'd long since stopped trying to understand what was happening, or why. Daniel, Malek, and the other Tok'ra who'd been captured had been interrogated too, but only once. Amelia had been taken every day. After the first day, the goa'uld with the face of her father had even stopped pretending he was after information. Sure, he'd asked a few questions about the Tretonin, but there wasn't much he couldn't have gotten from his host.

Amelia had been pounded, pummeled, bruised and battered till finally she'd ceased the tears, ceased the screams, ceased the imploring. She sent her mind other places – made her mind see other things – her niece's smile, her nephews on Christmas morning, Lydia as she thoughtlessly twisted her wedding ring, muttering under her breath while she put together a grocery list.

Jonas's eyes.

The goa'uld would have none of it. Now Amelia realized what a truly sick specimen he was. The fact that his methods had up to this point only consisted of damage he could inflict with his own inhumanly strong hands had confused her. Her nightmares had been filled with things like hot brands, blades, and any number of other implements, and dreading that each new day would produce them. But it wasn't until now, when she'd finally grown numb to the first phase that things had changed.

The device hadn't looked very threatening. It sat innocuously nearby in the usual venue – a room approximately seven feet square where every day she'd endured her tormentor's unrelenting abuse. She couldn't help but notice it when she was brought in, a waist-high pedestal of some kind, round, with a smooth surface on top, bright as glass.

The Jaffa who escorted her shoved her roughly into the room. Resigned, Amelia stood quietly to wait, and it was only a couple of moments before the goa'uld arrived, gesturing for the Jaffa guards to leave them alone. The room had no windows of any kind. There was never anywhere to go, nowhere she could have run even if she'd found the strength.

"Amelia, I have to say," the goa'uld began, heading in her direction. "You've been holding up much better than I expected, particularly given my host's opinion of your stamina before we began."

Reflexively, she shrank back from him, but was surprised when she found his object was not her but the new device. He reached around and toggled a switch of some kind that she couldn't see, and the pedestal – whatever it was – began softly humming. "I think," he continued speaking, "that we're ready to move on to something a bit more… refined," he concluded, embellishing the last word with a self-pleased smirk.

Now Amelia fixed her attention more fearfully on the device, utterly baffled as to what kind of 'refined' results it could deliver, and the fact that she couldn't figure it out was twice as terrifying as anything else.

"You're a musician, Amelia Kinsey?" the goa'uld asked, his voice almost velvet with his relish in the question. Her only response was to flick her eyes in his direction, reacting almost on reflex to the question. She came a hairsbreadth from rolling her eyes – it was so belittling to be asked stupid questions that he knew perfectly well the answer to.

The goa'uld gave a disgusting chuckle. "Yes, I know you are. You play in a _nationally_ renowned symphony orchestra. Your father knew a lot about it that you probably think he didn't." Now he was moving toward her and Amelia focused her eyes to the corner where the walls and floor came together and tried not to flinch as he stepped around behind to gloat in her ear. "Yes, he loved you in your job. Up on that stage, playing the music of the snobbish, all fancy and salable. My daughter, the _musician_."

As he spoke, the goa'uld changed his voice to that of Robert Kinsey. His inflection and accent a perfect imitation of Amelia's father, so close she almost believed it was true. The words he spoke also rang true – dripping with all the haughty, selfish sentiment of a man addicted to prestige.

"We're _so_ proud of Amelia. She's one of the brightest talents in the country. I _never_ miss a chance to hear her play."

Still murmuring sadistically, the goa'uld reached down slowly and grasped Amelia's left hand from behind. She had lost the battle to remain numb. Boiling with fresh rage, she tried to jerk away, thrashing her whole body violently, but the goa'uld's grip hardened into iron, and he seized her firmly by the other arm to keep her from moving. Her left hand remained the object of his attention. Though Amelia still tensed and wriggled in protest, it wasn't very difficult for him to force her fingers open, holding her whole hand open and immovable. Then he wrested her around to face the pedestal.

Amelia chocked back a panicked sob. While her attention had been taken up by the goa'uld's actions, the top of the pedestal's shining surface had changed from mirrored silver to hot, cherry red, and the goa'uld was forcing her hand straight toward it.

"No," Amelia managed, though the word was a half-sob. "No, please."

"We're so proud of Amelia," the goa'uld continued in her father's voice. "Such pretty white hands, such flexible fingers. They dance so gracefully on the fingerboard."

Amelia didn't need to wait for the pain in order to cry. The tears were already halfway down her face as her fingertips were forced onto the surface, sizzling like water on a hot plate.

"Dad," she whispered, ragged. The terror, combined with the unrelenting white hot searing joined forces to push her to a place of near-hysteria. "Please, dad. Please, please stop."

He laughed. "Your father doesn't care about you, Amelia. Did they tell you, Amelia, at Stargate Command about the day the world almost ended? About the day Anubis's motherships almost tore your planet to shreds? Do you know where your father was that day, Amelia? Trying to escape through the stargate like a rat to higher ground."

Whatever else he had to say was lost on Amelia, because at that moment she fainted. She'd awoken to find herself still here, in this evil room, welcoming the cold deck plates on her blistered fingers.

After a few moments, sounds began to penetrate her mental haze. Voices. They weren't very far away. Goa'uld voices.

Weakly, Amelia opened her eyes again and shifted slightly, trying to get a better look around. She didn't have the energy to move very much, though, but moving her head in the other direction, she perceived that the door to the torture chamber was open, and that the goa'uld who looked like her father was speaking to another goa'uld. Trying to collect her focus, which part of her was most reluctant to do, it was another couple of moments before Amelia realized that her father wasn't actually talking at all, he was listening, with something approximating chagrin.

"— had your fun," the other goa'uld was saying. He was tall, and darkly handsome, wearing an ornate robe and boasting a neatly trimmed beard. It was clear he was angry. "Now I'm telling you that play time is over. It's time to continue with your mission."

"Apologies, my lord," her father finally replied, bobbing his head. It was clear to Amelia that it pained him to do so.

"See that your priorities remain in line from now on. You're only fortunate I have no time to waste on adequate punishment. I promise you, the girl is yours as soon as I have the device."

"Yes, my lord."

"Is she expecting you?"

"On Laicha."

"And how will you explain your mysterious tardiness?" the other goa'uld asked, annoyed. He looked as though he was quite ready to end this conversation and scrub her father off his hands like grit under his fingernails. Amelia felt that she couldn't really blame him.

"Engine troubles, my lord. We have been communicating as such to her over the past few days."

The second goa'uld snorted. "I'll have Nerus sent over to your engine room before you depart. He'll make your story look believable, but I want you gone before a half day's time. And I forbid you from pursuing this… hobby of yours in the meantime. Clearly, its distractive influence over you is a problem. One you'd best keep under control."

"As you command, Lord Ba'al."

With a dismissive sniff, Lord Ba'al shouldered past her father and out of Amelia's sight. Amelia had the presence of mind to close her eyes and feign unconsciousness again, a pretense she did not have to maintain for long. Almost immediately, she heard her father's alien voice giving orders to take her away, and she was rattled awake by the grips of two unyielding Jaffa.

Amelia's relief at being returned to the cell she shared with Malek and Daniel, at seeing their friendly, compassionate faces, was so great that she immediately burst into gasping tears the moment the Jaffa had retreated from sight. Both of them were immediately crouched by her side.

"Amelia." Malek brought her face around, forcing her to look into his ancient, gentle eyes. The sound of her name from his voice was a soft query of concern and a reassurance all in one.

"It's over," she whispered, actually managing a smile as two more tears found their way down her face. "For now, it's over."

"What happened?" asked Daniel, glancing back the way the Jaffa had departed.

Amelia sniffled, shifting her weight around so that could wipe her nose with the sleeve on her good arm, which had been supporting her. Her injured hand, fingers pulsing with agonizing heat, was cradled into her side. "There was another goa'uld in charge. He seemed pretty important," she told them. "Ba'al?" she added tentatively.

"Oh, terrific," Daniel muttered, almost sing-song. He sighed. "Yeah, we know him."

Amelia repeated, as best she could remember, the conversation she'd overheard. At the mention of Laicha, Malek's eyes grew wide with surprise and then narrowed.

"What?" asked Daniel.

The Tok'ra considered a moment before speaking. "Laicha is Aledar's homeworld," he informed them. "It has long been under the control of Bastet, but I know beyond any doubt that Bastet was recently destroyed by Anubis, and as far as I know all her holdings became part of his empire. Whatever mistress Ba'al and Kinsey were speaking of, I cannot think who it might be."

"But you're saying we're being taken to a planet you're familiar with?" Daniel asked.

Malek nodded. "Particularly if the stargate is still where it once was. Aledar knows those lands and the fortress there better than anyone else I know."

"That could be a very good thing," Daniel observed.

"I agree, Doctor Jackson."

"Provided they actually take us to the surface," Daniel amended, looking thoughtful.

"That would be helpful, yes," Malek confirmed.

Amelia shifted again, looking around the familiar confines of the cell with a mind to find a place to curl up and sleep. Malek and Daniel looked over at her, and Daniel frowned. "Amelia, what's wrong with your arm?"

She shrank back. "It's nothing."

"It's not nothing," he said flatly, his frown deepening. He held out his hand. "Let me see."

With utmost reluctance – she did not want to look – Amelia pulled her hand away from her body and held it up. Daniel took it, holding it carefully by the wrist, and swore viciously under his breath. "I never thought I'd say this," he said slowly, his eyes roving over her burned fingers with anger, "but it's a good thing Ba'al showed up when he did."

Now it was Malek's turn to study the wound. He took her hand from Daniel, examining the vicious burns with intensity. "This is a most peculiar means if inflicting injury," he observed at last.

"It's the hand I play with," Amelia said softly, her voice pained. "He knew this would hurt me far more on the inside than it would physically." She swallowed, determined not to cry again. "Malek," she asked, her voice trembling, "will it heal?"

Malek had returned the injured hand to the care of Daniel to tear neat strip of fabric from the inner layer of his tunic-like uniform. Then he took her hand once more and began binding the injury with tender, deliberate motions. "In time," he said, looking up long enough to give her one of his rare smiles. "With treatment, of course, but mostly what you need is time. It will heal."

Nobody pointed out the obvious – that they were going to need to escape in order for this prescription to be filled. Instead, Daniel paced the floor, his mind racing with possibility, while Malek carried Amelia to the far corner of the cell. She used his shoulder for a pillow, barely hearing Daniel's rambling speculations and tentative plans. By the time Malek settled himself against the wall on the floor, his arms still warmly cradling her, she was already asleep.

* * *

**A/N**: The good news - there are only three more chapters left to write in this story. I sat down and worked out what all I need to accomplish, and we're in terrific shape. The bad news (well, for you guys - it's good news for Laura) - I promised my coauthor of original fiction I'd have our manuscript edited (again) by the end of the month, so that will have to be my next writing-related priority for the next little while. The potentiall good news - I'm really, _really_ in a Jonas/Amelia mood right now, and really on a roll. I may work some productivity magic and take you all by surprise. In either case, these long, arduous waits between updates will not last very much longer.

For those of you who have read my giant Star Wars soap opera epic, you'll probably recognize the made-up proper noun 'Laicha.' So I recycle my invented words. LOL I guess I never really thought I'd be so lucky as to have cross-fandom readers. I hope you don't find it too distracting. ;-)

Until next time, cheers! (and leave feedback!)

Saché


	7. Reunion

**CHAPTER SEVEN** - _Reunion_

* * *

From a shadowed corner of a dusty market square, Sarah Gardner watched the comings and goings of a small but thriving community of Jaffa. They were not free Jaffa, at least not openly, but based on what Teal'c had told her, the seeds were here.

Her eyes focused on a young mother arguing with an elder over the price of _flatsa_. Sarah smiled at the child she held, probably about one or so, who kept reaching hopefully for the bright beads that trimmed his mother's hair, only to fail every time her animated behavior jerked them beyond his small, chubby grasp. The scene was comforting. Despite everything they had suffered over the millennia, the Jaffa still lived, loved, and thrived in defiance of their cruel masters.

There had been some debate about how the team should dress for this mission. Sarah had been in favor of standard SG team offworld gear, but Teal'c had quickly asserted the need for a more subtle presentation. Though his celebrity made it nearly impossible for him to travel anonymously in Jaffa circles, he emphasized the need for cooperation from his people, and to dress in the manner of the Tau'ri would put most Jaffa on their guard.

Jack had nearly come to blows with Larassette, who at first had flatly refused to disguise herself as a Jaffa. Tension between the Tok'ra and Jaffa notwithstanding, she saw no point in hiding the fact she was a Tok'ra when the very nature of their investigation was directly tied to the Tok'ra and Tok'ra interests. Jack had eventually wrested her into conceding, but Sarah privately suspected that his faith in Larassette's promise to follow orders had slipped several notches below its already low level.

Sarah had been far more compliant. Though she had only been a host for three years – a blink of an eye compared with Osiris's former tenure among the goa'uld— her ambitious captor had been neither idle nor reclusive. A great many Jaffa had suffered at Sarah's hands and knew her face.

So she'd dyed her hair a dark brown, straightened it, and put it up in a severe style. Teal'c had provided her with a garment of the Hak'tyl. Sarah found the costume rather audacious, but it had a high collar that would hide the telling scar on the back of her neck. Teal'c also suggested that she adopt the symbol of Moloc on her forehead to complete the disguise, a suggestion she found very insightful. She only hoped it would be enough.

The market square she gazed upon was surrounded by simple one and two-story structures comprising a few more specialized shops, a tavern, and other such fixtures as could be found in many villages across the galaxy. It was into one of these that Teal'c had gone with his contact. Sarah expected that she and Larassette would be asked to join him at any moment.

She heard the Tok'ra woman's footsteps approaching. A covered wooden walkway lined the fronts of the buildings along the entire square. Larassette had spent the last quarter of an hour steadily pacing the perimeter, examining every corner and returning the curious and wary stares of the natives with a challenging expression of her own. Like Sarah, Larassette had adopted the disguise of Hak'tyl, and Sarah guessed that most of the Jaffa weren't yet accustomed to the sight of a female so brazenly flaunting her status as a warrior.

Larassette came to a stop beside Sarah and joined her in the surveying of the square. She didn't say anything at first, but Sarah could practically feel the tension oozing out of her. Sarah wished she'd stop being so fidgety. The nervousness was beginning to rub off. Larassette had crossed and uncrossed her arms exactly three times and given a long sigh before she finally spoke.

"What's keeping them?" she muttered.

"It hasn't been that long," Sarah replied composedly.

Larassette opened her mouth, presumably to debate, but a sudden, subtle shift in the energy of the people in the square cut her off. In the far corner, where one of four wide, tunnel-like doorways led the way out into the rest of the village, a small but formidable group of warriors were making a commanding entrance into the square. The villagers quickly gathered around the newcomers, asking, as one, a barrage of eager and anxious questions.

The warriors' leader was swift to raise an expectant hand and everyone instantly calmed down. It became so quiet, in fact, that Sarah had no trouble hearing his words. "There is little good news." he said in a weary voice. "We couldn't learn anything helpful, only that villages from Quinas and Yira have suffered similar losses."

There was a general gasp of surprise from the villagers. "And has Lord Ba'al given them any answers?" asked an older Jaffa near the front. "Does he give a reason for why so many warriors have been lost to us?"

"Does he ever give a reason?" retorted another of the warriors in the newly-arrived group.

"_Shol'va_!" the old Jaffa shouted back. "I'll cut out your tongue with my own knife if you continue that blasphemous talk. You spread your poisonous words—"

Whatever else was to be said in this tirade was lost to Sarah's ears. The crowd suddenly became a noisy hotbed as each Jaffa began shouting at every other Jaffa. It was up to the lead warrior to calm things down again.

"None," he answered when once again he had their attention. "Lord Ba'al has not made his presence known on any of the planets where we inquired. Not for many days. Sometimes for many months."

As the crowd expressed its disappointment with another bout of murmuring, the leader raised his voice to compensate. "We will continue our search for answers in the morning," he assured them. "In the meantime, I suggest we all prepare for a respite. It has been a tiresome few days."

The crowd began dissipating back to its previous condition of congenial day-to-day life. The warriors continued to address the concerns of a few villagers who lingered, but Sarah was unsurprised that they were steadily making their way towards the corner of the square from which she and Larassette had been observing.

The lead Jaffa warrior finally looked in their direction long enough to notice Sarah and the Larassette. "We have visitors," he observed.

"They came from the Hak'tyl, Shan'dar," a nearby adolescent dutifully informed his elder. "They came—" he paused, and looked around carefully before adding, "—they came with Teal'c. He is speaking to Maz'rai even now."

"Welcome to Dornalis," Shan'dar said, nodding his head respectfully at each of the women in turn. "You'll forgive me; I promised Maz'rai I would report to him the moment I arrived."

"Certainly," said Sarah. She was still trying to puzzle out what could possibly be the source of this village's consternation. Teal'c had not forewarned them of any disappearances plaguing the Jaffa here before they'd arrived. She stepped aside and allowed Shan'dar to pass. Larassette followed his progress with a scowl and disgruntled eyes.

Things continued uneventfully for a few more minutes. The crowd in the square had lessened, and Sarah realized that many of the people must have been here specifically in expectation of the warriors' return. Some remained behind to continue their trading, and a handful were still making pressing inquisition to Shan'dar's warriors, who had spread themselves out over the square.

The warrior who had spoken his disrespect of Ba'al idled the longest in talking with his fellow Jaffa. At last he joined one of the other warriors and the two set out purposefully in the wake of their master. When the outspoken Jaffa's eyes fell on Sarah, he froze, and his features turned to iron.

"_You_!" he shouted, and the word was a curse. Charging forward, Sarah saw all her worries become reality in his narrowed eyes. So much for the disguise. "You murdered my cousin! False God! _Shel nak kree tovic_! We have been betrayed!" He did not stop shouting during his entire approach.

Sarah would have ducked out of the way of the staff weapon that began swinging towards her as soon as her accuser was close enough, but in the end there was no need.

A loud _smack_ split the late afternoon air. Out of nowhere it seemed, Teal'c had charged in between Sarah and the oncoming weapon, seizing it midair with his large hand and not so much as a wince. Sarah let out a breath that was part surprise, part relief. The sound made by the weapon colliding with Teal'c's grip continued to reverberate in the shocked silence that now hovered over all who remained in the square. Sarah glanced behind her and saw that Shan'dar and the older Maz'rai had come out of their conference to observe the spectacle.

After several tense moments of glaring, Teal'c spoke. His voice was low enough that only those in his immediate vicinity could hear him. "As one who professes to defy false gods, brother, I would advise you to remember that their victims number more than just the Jaffa." With that, he wrested the staff weapon forcefully from the younger warrior's grip. "This is Sarah Gardner of the Tau'ri, former host to Osiris. She is not the one to whom your hatred is due."

The young Jaffa's eyes flicked back to Sarah, still suspicious. She met his gaze with placid, unblinking calm. It was a long moment before he managed to ask, in a voice somewhat strained, "I had heard that Osiris was dead, but I thought it rumor only."

Sarah thought this an appropriate moment to speak up. "It is the truth, to my unending relief."

"I had hoped that it was not," was his response. Sarah could hear the regret of unfulfilled vengeance in his voice.

Teal'c finally gave the young warrior back his staff weapon, who accepted it wordlessly.

"Now," said Teal'c. "You will return to the villagers and explain to them that you were mistaken, and that this is merely Talish of the Hak'tyl."

The warrior continued to stand, staring blankly ahead with his jaw locked tight, until a sharp command from Shan'dar seemed to bring him back to his senses. "Yes, master," he said, holding his fist to his chest in deference to his leader. Almost as a begrudging afterthought, he likewise saluted Sarah. "Apologies," he said stiffly, then turned and walked away.

"I must speak with Maz'rai and Teal'c," Shan'dar said collectively to the rest of his warriors, who had gathered loosely about, hanging back hesitantly after the confrontation between Teal'c and their comrade. "I will meet you all here at dawn. Go to your families. Get some rest."

As the warriors turned to leave, Maz'rai, white-haired and round, looked at the small group that remained. "Come," he said, particularly catching Sarah and Larassette with his gaze. "There is much to discuss."

The room on the other side of the door was quaint and comfortable, and took up the entirety of the building's first floor. A stone staircase with no banister led to the upper level, and there were wide, squat windows in the two far walls. A large fireplace took up much of the third wall. The low ceiling and the wood paneling combined to give a homey, underground feel. The only furnishing was a large table in the center of the floor, surrounded by several brightly lit lampstands.

"Please, seat yourselves," Maz'rai said. "Teal'c has told me both your true identities," he continued, standing respectfully behind his own chair as he waited for the rest of them to sit. "Please allow me to apologize for Jer'ek. He is one of our most passionate young warriors for the cause of freedom, but often his… _enthusiasm_ is as much a detriment as it is an asset."

"There is no lasting harm done, sir," Sarah said.

"I am relieved. Please, allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Maz'rai, and elder of this village and chosen spokesperson for the free Jaffa of Dornalis. This is Shan'dar, my friend and commander of our warriors."

"Do you command all of Ba'al's forces here?" Larassette asked. "Or merely those that express an interest in the rebellion?"

The Jaffa commander eyed her speculatively for a moment before framing his reply. "I am happy to say that there is little difference between the two. Almost all of Dornalis is united behind us. When the time is right, we will declare our beliefs openly. But yes, in name I am the commander of Ba'als forces here." He paused, then added, "Forgive me, but I did not learn your name."

"Shan'dar, this is Larassette of the Tok'ra. She is representing the Tok'ra interests in this matter."

The two exchanged stiff nods of recognition, and then Teal'c continued with formal introductions. When everyone had become officially acquainted, the discussion finally turned to their errand.

"Teal'c has told me that you seek intelligence on the goa'uld Anat," Maz'rai said.

Sarah leaned forward slightly. "That's right. We have reason to believe she has recently been resurrected from an imprisonment on Earth, and has even managed to acquire Jaffa forces to command."

"Most peculiar, as our cause is spreading among our brothers like a wildfire on Kadish," Teal'c was swift to point out. He could not conceal a faint touch of pride in his voice. "Those Jaffa that remain loyal to their goa'uld masters are not likely to exchange their fealty."

A wry smile touched Shan'dar's lips. "For the same reasons they will not accept the choice of freedom. Their devotion to their false gods is blinding."

"Whatever her methods of persuasion," Larassette injected, "Anat's forces discovered and destroyed a Tok'ra base. At least that is the way things appear."

"The Jaffa we saw there bore her ancient symbol, the double-bladed axe," Sarah said. "It has been many generations since any Jaffa has borne it, but based upon my memories of Osiris, there can be no doubt."

"By my estimation, it would have taken approximately four al'kesh to cripple Bilkah based upon the strategy that was employed when we were attacked," said Larassette, "and at least seven fully armed battalions of warriors to storm the tunnels with sufficient efficiency."

"Which brings us back to the original question," Sarah concluded. "How could she have earned the support of so many Jaffa so quickly?"

"It is most likely that Anat has allied her forces with those of a stronger goa'uld," said Teal'c. "We have information that would suggest Ba'al is responsible for engineering her release."

"Ba'al has not approached me regarding any such campaigns," said Shan'dar slowly, answering Teal'c's unvoiced question when the former first prime looked at him expectantly. His eyes shifted to Maz'rai and the two shared a meaningful expression before he added, "but perhaps this mystery may shed an unexpected light on another."

* * *

Laicha was the first planet Amelia had ever seen from space. She'd never even _been_ in space until this disaster, and their abduction from Bilkah had not given her any opportunity to look out the viewport. From where she stood now, in the rear of a small transport ship – a _tel'tak_, Daniel had quietly informed her – she could catch glimpses of a lush green and blue world through a viewport in the front compartment of the ship. It wasn't a very gratifying sampling. The viewport itself was several feet away, and there were about ten Jaffa crowding the tel'tak as well, all alertly watching the prisoners' every move.

Glancing sideways, Amelia continued her careful observance of Malek. His expression did nothing to betray the fact that this was a homecoming, of a sort. Granted, his eyes were fixed firmly ahead, monitoring their approach of the planet, but there was nothing to be found there beyond the circumspect interest of a captive. Their enemies would not learn the satisfaction that both he and Daniel would be feeling about getting to the surface.

Exhaling softly, Amelia turned her eyes from her friend and tried to follow his example. They hadn't spent much time in hyperspace, a little above a day at most. She would have preferred a longer reprieve, but even that brief time spent resting in the comfort of her friends' company had done much to restore her courage. It was also strangely helpful to think that the conversation she'd overheard between her father and the goa'uld Ba'al might be important and useful. It enabled Amelia to approach her situation a bit differently than she had at first. It was highly unlikely she'd be able to contribute anything constructive to an escape plan, but on the off chance a similar opportunity presented itself, she was determined not to miss it due to inattentive fear. Nervously, she rubbed her injured fingertips against the heel of her hand, trying to remind herself that Jonas had done this sort of thing all the time when he'd been a member of SG-1.

It became trickier to gauge the tel'tak's progress as they neared the planet's surface. Long stretches of starry night melted into hazy atmosphere. Wisps of cloud flew by after a while, making Amelia appreciate for the first time the speed at which the ship was traveling. For the next little while it was nothing but jewel-blue skies and more clouds. The experience reminded Amelia of when she was little, laying down in the backseat of her parents' car and trying to figure out how far they were from home by the turns the car made, the treetops, and the power lines she could see above her head through the window. The only thing that was truly evident was that they were slowing down.

Finally, she caught sight of some steep, imposing green mountains in the distance, before more green consumed her limited sight and a few minutes later, they had landed. Amelia didn't get a chance to note much outside except foliage before the Jaffa were already turning her, Daniel, Malek, and the rest of the Tok'ra around to be herded out the door.

Her first impression was the heat, which blasted in their faces long before they'd reached the outside, a sticky, humid, jungle heat, accompanied by the sounds of some very vocal wildlife. A moment later, they were blinking their way into the bright world on the other side.

Aledar had once described for her, in great detail and with great affection, the beauty of his homeworld. Amelia certainly never guessed she'd one day see it with her own eyes, but now she saw that he had not been exaggerating. The tel'tak had landed on in a clearing beside a broad brown and blue river, which cut through a verdant rainforest that stretched away densely in every direction as far as Amelia could see. A moon hung in the sky, streaked blue and lavender and hanging much closer than Earth's. She found two more moons after she was finally able to tear her eyes away from the first.

The only blight on this pristine landscape was the fortress. The Jaffa turned the prisoners about to face the opposite direction, heading past the tel'tak that had brought them, and there it sat, like an insult, a vicious-looking, multi-turreted monstrosity, black as obsidian.

"Bubastis," Daniel murmured when he saw it. This earned a sharp glare from the nearest Jaffa, who narrowed his eyes at Daniel. Apparently, however, he decided Daniel's words presented no real danger, for he took no action as Daniel continued speaking. "Bastet's fortress," the archaeologist explained. "I read descriptions of this place when I was researching for the System Lords' summit three years ago."

Amelia glanced at Malek, who gave a curt, almost indiscernible nod of affirmation. The question that burned her mind most was the location of the stargate, but she knew better than to ask that here.

The main gate of the fortress was flanked by four stone panthers, two in regal repose and two in a snarling posture of attack. On the other side of a high, fortified wall was an open air courtyard, filled with more Jaffa than Amelia had time to count. They were hastily escorted through it and into the keep beyond. Then their journey became a seemingly unending trek through sleek marble corridors that all looked the same, passing human slaves along the way as well as more Jaffa. The prisoners were met with minimal interest by either group.

Finally, they came to a pair of ornate black doors and stopped. Amelia stared curiously at the carvings on the doors, also panthers, and it was several moments before she realized what she was looking at was not marble, but wood as black as coal. It was breathtaking.

The lead Jaffa knocked on the doors, which opened for him. Amelia craned her neck but couldn't get a good look inside before they were closed again. With the rest of the Jaffa still circling them imposingly, there was little for the prisoners to do but stand there silently and wait. Amelia studied every feature of the corridor around her. Then she began watching the dancing flames of a nearby torch with an interest only boredom could muster. She was starting to feel rather sleepy by the time the doors finally opened again, and the Jaffa who'd brought them here reappeared.

"Her Majesty, the goddess Anat, will speak with the prisoners now," he said. In an instant, Amelia's lethargy reverted to apprehension.

The throne room, as it could only be described, was as ornate and impressive as the rest of the fortress's palace-like interior. Cool columns and an inlaid floor were laid out in varying motifs of black, gold, and cream. Soft, wispy, curtains of silk hung like veils from the ceiling at intervals. Slaves, Jaffa, and other ingrates lined the approach to the dais at the end of the room, upon which sat a person who Amelia could only suppose was Anat.

She was surprisingly smaller than Amelia had been expecting, small and curvaceous, and very beautiful, with dark hair and features that had an Asian influence. Her lips curved into a self-satisfied smirk as her eyes fell on Daniel.

"At this rate," she said, "I'll have all the members of SG-1 before another week is out, past and present alike."

Amelia glanced over at Daniel, puzzled as to what this statement could mean. He briefly returned her look, and a small motion of his eyes told of his equal bewilderment. Nothing else could be communicated on the subject, for Anat had risen to her feet and was still talking. "Welcome to Bubastis, Doctor Jackson," she said. "The facilities are lovely, are they not? My predecessor was kind enough to leave them intact for me."

"By your predecessor do you mean Bastet or Ba'al?" he asked back.

"Hmmn," she replied, seeming to relish in his challenging manner. She looked him over with sparkling eyes. "Does it really matter?" she finally replied before progressing to Malek with her scrutiny. "And this is Commander Malek, who is now responsible for the loss of _two_ Tok'ra strongholds." She clucked her tongue a couple of times and laughed. "What a delightfully crushing blow that must be to morale. I do apologize, you know. As gratifying as it is to have rooted out yet another Tok'ra infestation, I would not have risked the resources had it not been for the presence of your distinguished guest." Her eyes flicked briefly back to Daniel then returned to Malek. "But I'm told you may have your uses as well."

Finally she looked at Amelia. Cocking her head slightly, Anat studied Amelia for a moment before twisting around to her right. Following the goa'uld's gaze, Amelia saw for the first time her father standing among the goa'uld's retinue. Anat looked between the two for a few moments before smiling wickedly again, but she did not speak to Amelia. Instead, she turned back to sit on her throne again. Draping her arms imperiously on the sides, she commanded, "Put them with the others." As the Jaffa seized them by the arms, she caught the prisoners' general gaze and added in a simper, "I suggest you get a good night's rest. Tomorrow we begin."

For her part, Amelia was not quite sure whether she was more inclined to shiver or to roll her eyes.

They were taken away from the throne room and from there, descended. They went down two flights of stairs into narrower corridors that were more like tunnels and noticeably less lavish than the corridors above. Amelia knew they'd passed into the dungeon proper after they passed through a thick metal door that blocked the entirety of the tunnel-like hallway. Dark, solitary cells cut out of the walls on either side of the stone walls like small caves confirmed her guess, but it wasn't to these that the Jaffa led them.

A large, central holding cell consisting of four walls of heavy metal grating filled the center of the main chamber that the corridor finally opened into. As far as Amelia could see, it was the only part of the dungeon actually housing prisoners, but when her eyes fell on the two figures inside, words could not express her shock.

"Sam?" said Daniel as Samantha Carter got to her feet, her face a mirror of her teammates' surprise. She had been sitting against the far wall of the chamber, and at her feet was a prone, limp figure.

"Daniel," Sam replied. "Thank goodness, I was afraid—"

"Jonas!" The cry was Amelia's, torn from her in sudden, panicked horror as she recognized the person Sam had been tending. The Jaffa, having just gotten the heavy iron door of the cell heaved open, did not even need to urge her inside. She was past them probably before they had a chance to realize it and at Jonas's side.

He was pale, limp, and feverish, barely recognizable as the man she'd kissed goodbye two years ago. He drew his breath through cracked lips and his forehead was beaded with sweat. "What—?" Amelia began, and looked up at Sam, frantic. "What is he doing here? What's wrong with him?"

Sam's face was not reassuring. Her brow furrowed with hesitation before she said quietly, "He's dying, Amelia."

* * *

**A/N: **(cackles evilly) Haha, no, in all seriousness, I apologize for the cruelty of that particular cliffhanger. I almost think I should have waited until I was ready to post the next one... however! I only have ONE MORE CHAPTER to write! And I highly suspect that between Friday and Saturday I'll probably accomplish writing it. So, you guys don't have to wait that long. Soon we'll be home free. grins

Also, **IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT** for those of you who aren't following this story on my Live Journal. I am changing the name of the story, because I finally found a title that fits. (This title was just sort of a placeholder; it always has been). When I post chapter eight, I will at the same time change the title of the story to _**Eye of the Beholder**_**, **just so everybody has a heads up and doesn't get confused.

Finally… feedback, por favor!!

Saché


	8. Adagio

**CHAPTER EIGHT** - _Adagio_

* * *

When Amelia realized that Jonas was here because of her, she felt sick.

After the Jaffa had left the captives alone in the dungeon, Sam has wasted no time in explaining how she and Jonas had come to be there. She described the events that had taken place at the SGC after Bilkah was attacked.

"They destroyed our markers," Sam explained. "Jonas was unconscious— they got him in the shoulder with a staff blast, but I managed to stay awake long enough to see them rustle around in his uniform until they found it. They knew just what they were looking for too. They must have taken mine after they knocked me out."

"Markers?" Amelia asked. She'd made a cradle for Jonas's head in her lap, and had one of his lifeless hands clutched in her own.

"It's a signaling device that allows _Prometheus_ to find us with its beaming technology," Sam clarified. "After we were captured, we were brought straight here," she continued. "I don't know if Teal'c and Larassette made it back to _Prometheus_ or not, but there's a good chance."

"Now we just need to get out of here," Daniel observed.

"Good luck," Sam muttered. "I've been keeping my eyes open all the time I've been here, and I can't see any likely way out. There are Jaffa everywhere. I don't think I've ever seen a place so overwhelmingly manned."

Malek and Daniel exchanged a glance. "We noticed the same thing about the ha'tak that brought us on our journey here," Malek said. "It is a situation most peculiar, given that their mistress is a Goa'uld I've never before encountered."

"Anat," said Daniel and Sam simultaneously.

Daniel looked at her in surprise. "How did you know that?" he asked.

"Come on, Daniel," Sam said. "You really think I've been the captive of a Goa'uld for over a week without being regaled with her name, her might, and her accomplishments?"

"Good point," he conceded.

"It's more than that, though," she confessed. "Just as we were receiving news the attack on Bilkah, General Hammond came to the SGC with Sarah Gardener. He had confirmed information that Vice-president Kinsey survived the destruction of the al'kesh a few weeks ago and that he was still under the influence of a Goa'uld." She glanced at Amelia, but kept talking. "Based on what they could learn of his movements, and the memories of Osiris that Sarah was able to draw upon, they believe his mission was to free a captive Goa'uld on earth called Anat. They also believe he succeeded and left the planet with the symbiote."

"Well, we definitely know about Kinsey being alive," Daniel said, looking between Malek and Amelia knowingly. He looked back at Sam. "He's here. In fact, he brought _us_ here."

"Really?"

"Yes, and according to what Amelia overheard, he's working for Ba'al."

"Well, that's not all that surprising," Sam admitted. "We always suspected Ba'al was responsible for pulling the strings behind the Trust."

"Colonel Carter?" Amelia asked timidly. "What happened to Jonas?"

Sam's lips were set in a grim line. "Anat wants my help with a project of hers," she said. "Some piece of technology. I don't know what it is, or why she seems to think I can help her with it. I can only guess that she knows of my history with the Asgard, so maybe she thinks I have some expertise that she's lacking." She sighed. "Naturally I've refused to help her, and she's been using Jonas to convince me to cooperate."

Sam looked at her former teammate, and then up at Amelia apologetically. "The wound on his shoulder from the staff blast was never properly treated. The burns finally started healing over, but not before he got blood poisoning." As she spoke, Malek left his position by the cell's entryway to crouch beside Amelia and begin a systematic examination of Jonas's shivering form. Sam continued, "At least that's my best guess, based on his symptoms. They've barely given us enough food and water to stay alive, and it's all I can do to get any of that inside him, but it's not good enough." She hesitated. "Tomorrow I was planning on telling Anat I would help her. At least bluff my way through it, if I could."

"You would have waited too long," Malek said, looking up grimly. "He will not outlive the night."

"Then call her back," Amelia said desperately, looking between them, imploring. "Tell her you'll help her right now, and maybe she can save him."

"I suppose we could try," Daniel admitted uncertainly from where he stood a few feet away. He glanced around, "but first off I don't see anyone to report to, and you have to understand, Amelia, once Anat has what she wants, it's very doubtful she'll follow up on her promise. That's the way Goa'uld operate."

"Doctor Jackson is correct," Malek said. "I do not believe this man's life was ever important to our hostess."

Amelia wanted to scream at them all, but her despair had paralyzed her tongue. A silent tear escaped her eye and dropped off the end of her nose to fall on Jonas's face. She tenderly wiped it off, even as another soon followed.

She looked back at Malek, who was studying Jonas with grim concentration. A long moment later, he looked up and held her eyes. "There may be another way," he said.

* * *

Sarah slept fitfully that night. She hadn't spent the night offworld since SG-1 had freed her from Osiris, and the night air of Dornalis put her on edge. Though Maz'rai and Shan'dar were gracious hosts, she still found it impossible to relax. It was a good three hours after she laid down before she was able to slip into a light sleep.

It didn't last very long. What felt like mere moments later, she was awakened by a commotion in the hallway outside, the sounds of muffled voices full of the urgency that only middle-of-the-night emergencies could excite. She lay there wondering if she should get up to investigate, but it was only until she heard Teal'c's unmistakable bass mingled with the others that she gave in to her curiosity and got out of bed.

It took a few minutes to get herself back into the outlandish garment of the Hak'tyl, but she finally succeeded and proceeded tentatively through the door. There was no one to be seen, but she could sense the remnants of the urgency still vibrating in the air. Quietly, she headed to the end of the hallway and down the staircase.

The torches, which had been trimmed to burn low when the previous evening's conference had finally come to a close, were all burning brightly again. Sarah's good English upbringing flinched at the sight of a fully armored Jaffa warrior spread out across the table – the same table where they'd been talking before and where they'd also eaten their dinner.

She did not recognize him. He was young – probably about her own age – and had a glassy, feverish look in his eyes, made all the more eerie-looking in the flickering torchlight. Around him hovered Teal'c, Shan'dar, Maz'rai, and three other of Shan'dar's warriors. One of them was the young Jaffa who had nearly tried to decapitate her earlier in the square. He was the first to look up and spy her coming down the staircase. His eyes narrowed briefly, but his attention immediately returned to his sickly comrade.

A moment later, Shan'dar too noticed her, and then Teal'c. The former gave a nod of assent, and Sarah relaxed slightly, glad to know she wasn't going to be dismissed.

A few moments later, she stepped quietly up beside Teal'c. "What's going on?" she asked.

"This warrior's name is Nek'a," Teal'c informed her. "He was one of Shan'dar's missing Jaffa, up until a short while ago when he wandered without warning into the village."

Sarah looked up between Teal'c and Shan'dar in surprise. "Really?" she blurted, and looked back down at Nek'a, impressed. Shan'dar had informed them in more detail of a recent problem that had been plaguing Dornalis and many other Jaffa strongholds. She recalled his words now.

"For the past moon or so, entire regiments of Jaffa have been disappearing without a trace. The System Lords' war against Anubis rages hot and strong, and the battles are many."

"Isn't it likely that Anubis is drawing the missing troops into his service?" Sarah had asked. "That was his tactic when he first began re-emerging amidst the System Lords. I remember clearly; Osiris was a great help to him in those days."

"If this were the case, we would be aware of it," Shan'dar assured her.

"How can you be sure?"

"From birth Jaffa are trained to show the utmost loyalty to the Goa'uld under whom they were raised. For some, the devotion is enough that they would die for it. More Jaffa than not would consider defection to another master's service the utmost act of cowardice."

"And those of us who have no great love for our 'gods' find it better to retain the familiar evil than to risk the fragmenting of our cause under the servitude of a new," Shan'dar added. "I would rather remain cloaked in the service of Ba'al where I command respect authority and the comfort of friends and family than to recklessly take my chances amongst the forces of Anubis."

It was Maz'rai who had finally managed to make things clear for Sarah. "If these troops were missing as a result of capture by Anubis, then there would be casualties left behind," he explained. "A great many casualties. But there has been nothing. Our warriors have simply gone to battle and not come home."

Until now, it seemed. Sarah studied the newly-arrived Nek'a with renewed interest. "Teal'c," she said, her eyes narrowing. She drew in a breath as she noted for the first time the symbol on the Jaffa's forehead.

"Indeed," he said.

Ignoring the suspicious gazes of the other Jaffa, Sara stepped closer. "Bring the light," she directed, pointing at the nearest torch, which rested in its sconce a few feet away. She was surprised when Maz'rai obeyed with no comment.

When he brought the light in more closely, Sarah leaned over and studied the tattoo intently, even going so far as to stretch the skin of the Jaffa's forehead back slightly with gently probing fingers. "Interesting," she said. "In the past, the favored method of re-branding another Goa'uld's Jaffa was to burn it away and then heal the skin using the sarcophagus. But it looks like all she did here was to incorporate the old tattoo into the pattern of the new one."

"Teal'c has told us this is the symbol of the Goa'uld who you seek," Maz'rai said.

Sarah straightened, giving a firm nod. "Yes," she said.

Without warning, Nek'a gave a sharp jerk on the table, causing all the warriors in the room to tense. Nek'a's eyes snapped into focus, and he gazed around at them. Then he glared.

"Where is she?" he demanded of Shan'dar.

"Where is who, Nek'a?" his commander asked, obviously concerned.

"My god," Nek'a replied. "I live by her command. How did I come to be here? I must return at once to her service! Release me! You are all _shol'va! Kree shak nel!_" He lunged up off the table, only to be shoved back down by about five pairs of strong arms. Sarah stepped hesitantly out of the way.

"He's mad," she observed as the young Jaffa slipped into unconsciousness as swiftly as he'd popped out of it.

"Something torments him," Shan'dar agreed. Sarah admired his obvious concern for his protégé. "Perhaps time and care will help him. And help us to understand what has happened to him. Take him upstairs."

As his men moved to obey, Shan'dar looked between Sarah and Teal'c with concern. "Before he disappeared, Nek'a was one of the strongest voices for freedom on Dornalis. Clearly some trickery is involved to make him speak with such fervid devotion to a Goa'uld."

A memory was beginning to tease the back of Sarah's mind, something she knew was important, but she couldn't quite catch it. With a conscious effort, she turned away from it. She knew from experience that Osiris's memories were like sneezes. It was better just to relax and let them surface on their own. Of course, usually she wasn't desirous of their presence.

"If Nek'a has been the victim of brainwashing, then he could be a danger to you," Teal'c observed.

Shan'dar nodded. "Yes, but he is still a good man and a friend. And he found his way back on his own. I believe the right course is to tend to him and hope for his healing." He hesitated, then added. "Notwithstanding, we shall proceed with all due caution."

* * *

"We can't do this. Not without asking him first." Sam's protest sounded weak to Amelia's ears.

"Have you been able to wake him up at all?" Daniel asked her.

Sam shook her head. "Not since last night."

"I don't understand," Amelia said, looking between them all. She glanced over at the other Tok'ra captives, who had clustered a little ways away and were observing the scene uncomfortably.

"To take a host without that host's express consent is against the most fundamental law of my people," Malek, as ever, explained to her sagely. "It is what sets us apart from the Goa'uld. Colonel Carter's concerns are not unfounded."

Amelia marveled at his calm. His bearing had hardly changed since he'd made his suggestion of saving Jonas's life by taking him as a temporary host. Amelia didn't know every nuance of Tok'ra society, but she was pretty sure they didn't go around swapping hosts like coffee filters. This was a huge deal, yet Malek had proposed it calmly and without hesitation.

She swallowed. "Aren't there ever special circumstances?" she asked hesitantly. "We know you're not going to treat him like a Goa'uld would."

Malek looked back up at Sam expectantly.

The Colonel stepped forward with obvious reluctance. "It's not just that," she said. "Believe me, Amelia, if you'd ever blended with a symbiote… well, there's no going back. Jonas will carry an imprint of Malek, Aledar, and all of Malek's former hosts for the rest of his life. No one should have to go into that blind."

"What happened?" Amelia asked softly, studying Sam's pained expression.

"Sometimes the rules do get broken," Sam replied. "We first met the Tok'ra because one named Jolinar took me as a host as a means to survive."

In another setting, Amelia probably couldn't have helped blurting a couple of nosy questions at that, but she held her tongue. Instead, she looked down at Jonas sadly. "It wouldn't be for very long," she said in a soft voice. She didn't figure there was any point in hiding her bias in this apparent moral conundrum.

"There are measures I can take to minimize that particular effect of the blending," Malek conceded. "The shorter amount of time I am able to spend, the less of an imprint he'll have to deal with."

"What about you?" Sam asked him. "Do you really think you can cure him?"

"Yes. Disease is far easier to deal with than injury. But the longer we wait, the harder it will be."

"Also, there's no telling when Anat's Jaffa will come back," Daniel was swift to point out, "but they're more likely to leave us alone for the night."

"What about Aledar?" Amelia asked quietly.

"I'll be fine, Amelia," Malek's host was quick to input. "The danger to me is the least."

"I still feel like we need to ask Jonas," Sam said insistently. "We at least need—"

She was cut short by a sudden fit of coughing from Jonas. "Ask me what?" he said weakly. His blinked his eyes sluggishly.

In an instant, Sam was crouched down by his side. "Jonas," she said with concern. "How are you feeling?"

He squinted at her for a moment, then said slowly, "Not much better."

"Hey, look who found us," she said with forced encouragement, looking around at the newcomers.

Jonas's eyes fell on Daniel first. "Daniel," he muttered, giving a slight nod.

"Hey, Jonas."

Next, Jonas's eyes swept over the Tok'ra, but didn't stop. Then he looked up, and Amelia squeezed his hand more tightly as his eyes finally found her. "Amelia," he said softly, and one side of his mouth curved up slightly. "We came to rescue you," he said.

Despite her pounding heart and her carefully-contained fear, Amelia laughed. "I know," she said fondly. "Thank you."

"Listen, Jonas, we don't have much time," Sam was quick to say, looking around the group as if to bring them all back to focus. She looked back at Jonas. "Malek wants to help keep you alive."

Jonas coughed slightly. "How?"

"He's offering to temporarily blend with you and cure your infection himself."

Jonas's eyes widened with surprise and he looked over at the Tok'ra commander with renewed interest. "Wow," he said. "That's quite an offer. No offense, but are there any other options?"

"Only to wait and gamble on Anat's mercy," Daniel said.

"And truthfully," Sam added, "we don't know if we have that kind of time."

Jonas gave another weak, wry smile. "No mincing words, eh?"

"Please, Jonas?" Amelia gently implored.

He studied her face and then turned his head back towards Malek again. "Why would you do this?"

"Because it is within my power."

"We could both die."

"The risk of that is very small. At least, with regards to the blending. Given our circumstances, the longevity of our lives beyond that is by no means certain."

"Fair enough." Jonas was quiet a moment, looking pensive. Then he gave as decisive a nod as he could manage. "All right, I'll do it."

Amelia exhaled in relief and Malek gave a curt nod of his own. "Very well. Then let us begin."

Sam stood to her feet and backed away slightly as Malek came to take her place by Jonas's side. The Tok'ra looked around. "After the blending, we will sleep," he said. "I will be able to work much more swiftly if he is unconscious, and I believe it will take the better part of the night. In the mean time, Aledar is going to brief you all on the layout of this fortress. Laicha is his homeworld and Bubastis the place of his former enslavement. He can help you to plan subversives against Anat." He turned back to Jonas. "I am ready."

Jonas nodded nervously, and glanced back up at Amelia. Giving her a wistful smile, he pulled her hand up till it was resting against his rapidly-beating heart. "_Adagio_," he said softly, holding her eyes with his, almost whispering.

She choked back a small sob, instead giving him a watery smile of unspoken understanding and encouragement. "We'll see you soon," she said.

Jonas finally turned his full attention back to Malek. "Let's do this," he said.

Amelia had to turn away for a moment, as Malek bent over Jonas. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to feel too squeamish. She could feel the evidence of what was taking place; Jonas's neck was cradled between her knees. She opened her eyes only when she sensed Aledar pulling back again, and looked down just in time to see Jonas's eyes glow with an eerie flare for a moment, then close. His body relaxed soon thereafter into sleep.

"What did he mean?" Sam asked, glancing at Amelia. "Adagio?"

It was a simple question, and Amelia wasn't quite sure how to respond. She frowned, trying to find the words, until Daniel answered for her. "It's Italian," he said. "In music it's meant to designate a leisurely tempo. And in ballet," he added, studying Amelia's face with unfeigned curiosity, "it denotes a love sequence."

She gave a soft smile. "Yes." She ran her fingers through Jonas's light brown hair. It was a little bit longer than she remembered. "It was a piece he asked me to play for him once. Mozart. It was just before he—" She broke off, blushing. "Nevermind."

Looking over, Amelia suddenly remembered poor Aledar, who was following the conversation with a slightly disoriented expression. "Hey," she said, reaching out and supporting him by the arm. "Are you okay?"

He took a shaky breath. "I haven't been separated from Malek in almost sixty years," he said slowly. "It feels… very strange." Blinking rapidly, he took another deep breath and seemed to collect himself. "But Malek was right. There's quite a lot that I can tell you about this place, and there's no better time to begin than now. It might be our only chance."

* * *

Feedback is the chocolate of cyberspace! Or my chocolate, anyway. Hehe.

Saché


	9. Leap of Faith

**CHAPTER NINE** - _Leap of Faith_

It was like being stuck between dreams. Or maybe it was like dreaming them all together. The dreams of an entire lifetime— of a handful of lifetimes— touching each other, and— well, blending really was the right word for it— until the lines that separated memory and persona disappeared. Under the weight of a fever-hazed mind, Jonas Quinn was trying to remember who he was and who he wasn't.

He remembered – vaguely – asking Malek for a reason why. Why had a Tok'ra he barely knew been willing to do this? Jonas had suspected, and now he knew for certain, that what Malek had offered him was very rarely ever bestowed. Now he had an answer, an answer he _remembered_, and he wondered if this choice would be worth the price after all.

Impressions flashed through his mind of a bright spring afternoon. He could smell the strong scent of a thousand wildflowers, and caught snatches of their color out of the corner of his eye. Then the color was lost altogether. His eyes were closed. His blood was pounding in his ears.

_Her lips felt just as soft as they looked and tasted sweeter. She was as precious as light to him. She gave him a joy of heart he had not known in many, many scores of years._

But she loved another.

Jonas tossed fitfully, confused and overwhelmed, deep, deep into the night.

* * *

Sarah left the task of holding vigil over the fitful Nek'a to Teal'c and the other Jaffa and went back to bed, for what little good it did. Nek'a had been placed in a room across the hall from her, and his random outbursts throughout the night did little encourage restiveness. Still, at some point during the early morning she managed to drift off completely, and as Dornalis had full rotation almost almost four hours longer than Earth, she actually managed to get a small bit of solid sleep.

"Sarah Gardner," Teal'c greeted when she finally emerged from her room again. He looked to have just been passing through the hallway.

"Good morning," Sarah said as she tightened the fingerless gloves that completed her outfit. "How is Nek'a?"

"He has calmed considerably in the last few hours," Teal'c said. "I believe the rest will do him good."

"Is he still upstairs?" she asked, nodding at the door just past Teal'c's shoulder.

"Indeed. Larassette of the Tok'ra is examining him."

"That's got to be an interesting sight," Sarah murmured wryly.

Teal'c's eyes sparked briefly with amused agreement. "I was just on my way to rejoin them," he said, and gestured with a hand, inviting her to follow.

They walked into the room just in time to see Larassette, as Teal'c had said, pulling back from where she'd just been leaning over, closely scrutinizing Nek'a's body. The Goa'uld healing device was wrapped around one hand, and Shan'dar, Maz'rai, and Jer'ek were all standing nearby, eyeing her cautiously.

Larassette caught sight of Sarah and Teal'c and nodded briskly by way of a greeting. "His mind has most certainly been tampered with," she announced without preamble. "It will be possible to heal the physical damage, but as to what other repercussions he may have suffered, I cannot say."

"If you can heal him, why have you not already done so?" Jer'ek demanded with a challenge.

The Tok'ra's eyes flashed in annoyance, and Sarah could see the effort it took for her to bite her tongue. "Because I would not wish to repair the damage until I can better assess it. Perhaps I can learn more of what was done to him, and why, but I cannot do it with these crude facilities. Unless, of course," she said, taking off the device and handing it to Sarah, "you have more experience with this device than me."

Sarah shook her head. "Osiris favored hand devices of a different nature," she said. "He had very little use for this one."

She handed it back, and Larassette took it wordlessly.

"Are you suggesting taking Nek'a to the Tok'ra?" Teal'c asked politically. The three other Jaffa looked even more on their guard than they had before.

"That would be my first choice, yes," Larassette replied, nonplussed. "However, due to the nature of the security breach on Bilkah, I think it is, for the moment, more secure if I entrust none of my fellow Tok'ra with what I have learned here." She looked slowly between the three Jaffa, then over at Teal'c and Sarah. "I would like permission to take him to Earth for further study."

Jer'ek stiffened and gave a muffled grunt of protest. Even Shan'dar let a bit of displeasure slip through his usually impossible-to-read exterior. Maz'rai made no effort to hide his distress. "You wish to take him away?" he asked, concerned. "Not even his family yet knows of his return."

"All the better—" Larassette began, but closed her mouth on her own words. Then she closed her eyes and a moment later, her posture changed and Kasi spoke.

"Maz'rai, Shan'dar," she said, nodding her heads to the two Jaffa leaders with respect that was far less stiff than that of her Tok'ra resident. "I know you have little reason to trust any of Larassette's people, hosts included, but believe me when I tell you that we mean Nek'a no harm. We only wish to help you understand what is happening to your warriors." She looked over at Teal'c and Sarah. "And perhaps find a way to discover the Tau'ri's lost companions."

Shan'dar glanced from Kasi's pretty, imploring features over to Teal'c, who bobbed his head in unspoken support of Kasi's assertions. On impulse, Sarah stepped forward and asked, "Please?"

"It would be easier to conceal knowledge of his unsettling arrival here if he were taken offworld," Maz'rai said slowly, clearly sifting the idea around.

"You truly believe that you can learn more by further examinations?" Shan'dar said gruffly to the Tok'ra host.

Kasi nodded. "I'm no scientist, but I know Larassette is very confident."

"And you will complete the healing ministrations when you have learned all you need to know?"

"I promise."

Shan'dar still did not seem satisfied. "I will agree to your request on one final condition," he finally said.

"What is that?"

"If you have not determined what you wish to know within a day's time, then you will abandon your examinations, heal Nek'a, and bring him home to his family."

"I—" Kasi began in protest.

Shan'dar stepped forward with a quiet and dangerous warning. "Teal'c of Chulak puts his trust in you, Tok'ra," he said. "And so I will give you one day's benefit of the doubt. But never forget that the Jaffa are not like the Tok'ra. The lives of many are not so readily purchased by the eager sacrifice of one. One day only."

She looked around the room and saw that she was unanimously outnumbered. "Very well," she said. "One day only. You have my word."

"And Jer'ek will accompany you to Earth," Shan'dar added.

Neither the Jaffa warrior nor the feisty young Tok'ra host seemed pleased with this, but neither gave further comment. For her part, Sarah rather wished that Shan'dar had chosen a watchdog besides the Jaffa who'd nearly tried to take her head off, but she supposed he didn't want to reveal her and Larassette's true identities to any more of his men than he needed to.

"If this matter is settled, than perhaps we should determine how best to get Nek'a to the stargate with all possible speed and discretion," Teal'c pointed out. "Even without your constraints, Shan'dar, I feel that time is of the essence."

* * *

Jonas's eyes snapped open. It was a very long, disoriented moment before he realized someone had been calling his name.

"Jonas?" Sam was crouching beside him again. More hesitantly, she added, "Malek?"

He blinked rapidly, trying to clear away the rest of the fug that still clouded his mind. "Malek's asleep," he finally managed. His voice was hoarse and his throat sore from where the symbiote had entered his body. "He cured the infection, but he's not strong enough transfer back yet."

"Can you stand?" Sam asked, glancing around. Jonas noted that everyone else was on their feet and extremely alert.

"What's going on?" he asked, and tried to prop himself up.

Sam put a hand on his shoulder and urged him back down again. "No, stay down. I just need to know if you _can_ stand."

"Yeah, I think so. Why?"

"We're going to try to escape. When the guard comes back, which they're due to any minute now."

"How?"

She hesitated, then, "Think you can play dead?"

Briefly, Sam and Aledar took turns outlining their plan to Jonas, and he had to admit, it had a fair chance of working. Bubastis, like many old Goa'uld strongholds, had its fair share of secret tunnels and escape routes. One of those escape routes happened to be in the very dungeon where they now found themselves imprisoned, a trap door that boasted a sizeable leap of faith into the river surging below the fortress.

"We just need to overcome the Jaffa long enough to make a run for it," Sam said. "Aledar thinks it's very likely Anat doesn't know about the trap door. They won't be expecting us to go that way."

A few moments more and Jonas found himself on the floor again with his eyes closed, listening to Sam direct all the others where she thought best to put them to execute her plan. It wasn't very much longer after they were all ready that they heard the telling tromp of boots.

_About a dozen_, Jonas thought, listening to the heavy footsteps pounding nearer and nearer on the thick stone of the dungeon floor. He pushed away the odd realization that twelve hours ago, he wouldn't have been quite so certain of that guess. Instead, he focused on remaining as still as possible.

The footsteps stopped. "Bring Doctor Jackson and the Tok'ra commander," a hard voice ordered. Jonas frowned. The voice was Goa'uld and vaguely familiar. Whoever he was, he'd never been down in to visit their lowly cell before.

"Colonel Carter!" The voice then called. Sam was in the very back of the cell, hovering with Amelia around Jonas's body. "My Lady Anat yet again wishes to renew her offer."

"Tell your lady Anat she can forget it, Kinsey," Sam shot back. "I'm not helping her. Besides, it doesn't matter anymore. Jonas is dead."

She let that hang for a moment, and Jonas quietly held his breath, knowing all the new pairs of eyes had turned simultaneously to him. This was especially hard considering that Sam had just revealed why the new voice seemed so familiar.

"He died last night," Sam added. "So you see, I won't negotiate."

"Dead," Kinsey repeated, and his skepticism was plain, even for Jonas, who couldn't see his face. "We'll see about that."

Next moment, booted steps began advancing even closer, down the cell in their direction. Jonas waited, still barely daring to breath, until—

"Now!" Sam shouted, and the world instantaneously became a small enclave of shouting and stone, smoke and fire.

Jonas twisted around. He only needed a brief glimpse of the situation before instinct kicked in. The nearest Jaffa was halfway leaning over him; undoubtedly he was in the middle of assessing Jonas's supposed lack of vitality. The Jaffa allowed his surprise to register for only half a second, but it was just enough time for Jonas to reach out with one leg and kick him hard on the knee, doubling him over. Jonas then followed with a second well-placed kick up into the Jaffa's stomach, knocking him backwards. Jonas was on his feet before the Jaffa hit the floor.

He seized his foe's staff weapon, and with one carefully placed blow put an end to the Jaffa's attempts to rise. Jonas felt more than a little unnerved by how easily it came to him, his body remembering tactics it had never actually learned. But there wasn't time to dwell on the matter. Even now, a second Jaffa was upon him, and Jonas swung the staff weapon up to block a blow that might have killed him.

Locked in combat, Jonas didn't take his eyes off his opponent. "Amelia!" he shouted over the din. He could see her in his peripheral vision. She was shrunk back against the cage, watching the skirmish with uncertain eyes. "Grab the zat!"

He could practically feel her relief at the command. Less than a moment later, she darted past him and his opponent. Jonas increased the ferocity of his attack, drawing the Jaffa's attention only to him, for only a fool would not have seen the danger. He blocked a low blow, then a high, and hoped that if Amelia didn't already know how to fire a zat'ni'katel, that she could figure it out. Malek might be providing Jonas with an extra helping of strength and dexterity, but this warrior would still have been too great a match for him even if he _hadn't_ just recovered from a week-long dance with death.

He heard rather than saw the zat fire. Then the Jaffa faltered, encompassed by the weapon's signature fingers of lightning. Jonas stepped out of the way to avoid being fallen on. Amelia was standing behind the Jaffa, still holding the zat in her hand, looking surprised, satisfied, and slightly less terrified. She gave Jonas an expectant expression. _What next?_

Behind her, Jonas could see that Sam's plan seemed to be enjoying passable success. Sam herself was outside the cage, and together she and Aledar were furiously caught up in close combat with another Jaffa. Daniel hadn't made it that far, but he'd somehow procured a zat of his own, and even as Jonas watched, he expertly brought down a Jaffa who made the mistake of trying to come into the cell's only doorway. Jonas also noticed that, despite the number of Jaffa they'd already brought down, there were also Tok'ra bodies on the floor. Kinsey was nowhere to be seen.

"So what's the plan?" Daniel asked as Jonas and Amelia joined him.

"First, get through the door."

"Brilliant," Daniel observed.

"I like to think so."

Getting through cell doorway was a precarious goal. It was just as much a danger to Jonas, Daniel, and Amelia trying to get out as it was to the Jaffa trying to get _in_, but working together, they managed it with only a singe or two, especially considering how few Jaffa remained.

As they cleared the prison, Jonas glanced to the side just in time to see Aledar fall to the ground after the Jaffa he'd been fighting clobbered him soundly in the head with a forceful elbow. Amelia gasped, and Daniel fired his zat before the Jaffa in question became aware of the newly-liberated trio.

One of the other Tok'ra – _Darkol_, Malek's memories supplied— was engaged in direct staff weapon fighting with a Jaffa, much like Jonas had been moments before, Jonas watched Darkol catch the Jaffa hard behind the knee with the lower end of the staff, then quick as a blink, pulled back, and swung hard and high at the Jaffa's head.

"Look out!" Daniel called, and Jonas whipped his head around to see a different Jaffa with his staff weapon already up and raised straight at Darkol.

The warning was too late. Darkol's Jaffa fell in the same moment the Tok'ra caught the full blast of the staff weapon straight in the heart and they fell together. Jonas swung his own staff weapon around in defense, as the other Jaffa had turned toward the sound of Daniel's warning and was now focused on him.

Daniel ducked and Jonas fired. Beyond them, Sam twisted free of the final remaining Jaffa, breaking far enough away that Daniel had just enough time to dart forward and finish him off with one final zat shot.

Sam watched him hit the floor, then turned to face them, breathing heavily. "Thanks," she said.

Amelia rushed forward and knelt beside Aledar. Sam came over to join her. "He's alive," said Sam. "Daniel, help me." While Daniel came over to assist Sam, she looked at the rest of them. Of the Tok'ra, only one remained on his feet. Mishael, Jonas remembered. The others were lying prone on the ground, scattered amongst the fallen Jaffa. "Check for any other survivors," Sam said. "And get as many weapons as you can carry."

"They're all dead," Jonas reported a few minutes later, sadly closing Darkol's staring eyes. He'd collected a couple of the Jaffa's energy grenades, and strapped a zat to his belt. He still held on to the staff weapon he'd taken from the first Jaffa he'd fought.

Distantly, the pound of footsteps could be heard coming down the corridor again, this time at a much greater pace. "Reinforcements," said Sam grimly.

"That was fast," Daniel observed, his face furrowed worriedly.

"There's a guard station just outside this prison," Jonas noted. "If Anat has the abundance of forces you claim, she's probably stashing them everywhere she can."

"Good thing we're not going that way then," Sam replied. Aledar was now on his feet, propped up between Sam and Daniel, but he was still unconscious. "Let's get moving."

"Go on ahead," Jonas said. "I've got an idea that might buy us a little time."

"What? No," Amelia protested, stepping forward.

He turned and gave her a level gaze. "It'll buy us more time if I don't have to stop and explain, Amelia, and you'd do better to be farther away. Go with Sam."

"Trust him, Amelia," Daniel called.

She looked hesitantly between the two, then nodded reluctantly and turned to follow Sam, Daniel, and Mishael.

Working quickly, Jonas took the staff weapon still clutched in both hands and swung it hard at the nearby prison bars with a loud clang. It didn't take much more effort to pry the covering off the staff weapon's power compartment. Jonas was slightly more careful, however, in freeing the small casing that housed the liquid naquadah power core. Once freed, he wrapped his fingers carefully around it and retrieved the zat gun from his belt.

Jonas sized up the layout of the corridor, then ducked behind the corner, using it for cover so that the approaching Jaffa wouldn't see him when they came into view. The timing had to be just right….

He listened until he knew they were nearly upon him. The moment he judged to be just right, he sprang out from behind the corner. In one smooth motion, he hurled the liquid naquadah power core in his hand toward the large pedestal that housed one of those ridiculous flaming oil lamps all the Goa'uld seemed to like for lighting their domains, the very same pedestal the vanguard of the assault was now getting ready to pass. Half a dozen staff weapons were already swinging his direction, but he forced himself to hold his ground a moment longer.

The instant the naquadah hit the fire, Jonas lifted his hand and shot the already potent combination once with the zat. After that he didn't wait around. He turned and ran as hard as he could, deeper down the tunnel.

He was to the point where Sam and the others had disappeared from sight when the explosion went off, filling his ears with almost deafening noise. Jonas could also smell it, and see the orange flare off the walls around him, even as the reverberation shook him to the ground. He covered his head with his arms and waited until he deemed the worst of it was over, then dared to emerge and look behind him.

To Jonas's satisfaction, the explosion had caused a small cave-in. It wasn't as complete a victory as he'd hoped. Working hard, the Jaffa would probably have it clear in little over a quarter of an hour, but it might just be enough.

"What'd you do?" Daniel asked when Jonas managed to rejoin them.

"I'll explain later," Jonas said, breathing hard. "We've got to keep moving."

"Well, you'd better take point then," Sam advised. "It occurred to me after we'd gone a little ways that I don't know where I'm going and Aledar is still out of it." She glanced uncomfortably at Jonas. "I'm presuming you know the way?"

Still trying to catch his breath, Jonas nodded.

"Good. Amelia, stick with Jonas. And—" she turned, glancing apologetically at Mishael. "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Mishael," said Jonas and Mishael together.

"Mishael. You take our six, er, the rearguard," Sam clarified, catching almost instantly the lack of understanding on the Tok'ra's face.

Jonas led the way. It was a bout a ten-minute brisk walk to the chamber with the trap door, including descending two steep flights of stairs to the bottommost level of the dungeon. Unfortunately, though the chamber was advantageously deep, it was not so advantageously out of the way. If the Jaffa kept following the main corridor after they cleared the cave-in, they would not have to do too extensive of a search to find the fleeing prisoners.

They reached the chamber, and did their best to bar the door, but there wasn't much that was going to stop a fully armed Jaffa warrior. Best to just get the trap door open as quickly as possible, Jonas decided.

It took an uncomfortable amount of time to find it. It was well-disguised among the genuine flagstones that comprised the chamber floor. Then there was the matter of trying to figure out how to open it. It wasn't easy. Jonas was trying to sift through Malek's memories of _Aledar_'s memories. He was pretty sure this would have been easier had Malek been conscious, but he also soon suspected that although Aledar had known where the trap door was, he'd never actually seen it used.

In the end, they carefully managed to get the lip of a zat gun under the edge of the coverstone and use it as a lever to pry the thing open. Jonas did this, and as soon as there was enough room for her fingers, Amelia helped. They lifted it far enough for Mishael to get a good grip on it with both hands and haul it clear.

Almost immediately, they all became aware of the sound of powerful, roaring water filtering up from below.

Jonas looked down, listening hard. "It's about a ten foot drop," he informed the others, clawing at his borrowed memories. "Now listen. The river is plenty deep right here, so you can jump in feet-first, but you're going to have to straighten out and let the current carry you for at least twenty seconds. Except for the trap door, the bottom of the fortress goes right down into the water. That's probably why they never found this place. Can everybody swim?" He presumed it was a question that had been asked before they'd originally conceived this plan, but it seemed worth asking again. They all nodded. Amelia was looking worried, and Sam was frowning.

"Jonas," she said, "I don't know how we're going to manage with Aledar, unless we can get him awake. If he's unconscious, he won't be able to hold his breath, even if we can manage to hang onto him under the water."

Jonas frowned, mulling over the problem. "See if you can get him awake," he said. "If not, then I think I can manage to keep him from drowning if I jump with him."

While Jonas finished giving them instructions on what to do once they'd cleared the fortress, Sam and Daniel worked together trying to resuscitate Aledar. Finally, his eyes opened and he stared around them feebly. "We made it?" he asked, offering up a weak smile.

"Nearly," said Jonas.

Outside their door, they all became aware that the loud, searching voices of Anat's Jaffa could be heard. They'd made it to the bottom level.

"We're going to jump," said Daniel hurriedly, turning back to Aledar. "Do you think you can make it?"

Aledar put a hand out to prop himself up. He winced, but nodded. "I know what to do," he said.

"Good," said Jonas. He glanced at Mishael. "Mishael, you go first, then Amelia. Then Daniel and Aledar, and then Sam, and I'll go last."

A loud bang sounded on their door, and they all jumped. "Go!" Jonas hissed to Mishael. The Tok'ra steeled his expression as another pound sounded, and the Jaffa doing the pounding began shouting triumphantly in Goa'uld to his comrades. Mishael swung his legs over the edge of the trap door, took a few deep breaths, and vaulted himself into the deep.

Amelia looked at Jonas, who nodded encouragingly. Trembling, she too took a seat on the edge of the precipice.

Jonas knelt beside her. "Take some shorter, successive breaths to fill your lungs instead of one big one," he advised her softly. "They'll hold more that way. We're right behind you."

Amelia nodded, and opened her mouth briefly as though she wanted to say something. Then she closed it, swallowed, and began to catch her breath as Jonas had instructed. Just before she jumped, much to Jonas's amusement, she reached up and held her nose. Then Amelia was gone as well.

The door burst open. Jonas leapt to his feet, but he was not fast enough. The first Jaffa was already through the door, shouting orders. Sam, Aledar, and Daniel had been seized and in three paces, the Jaffa would be on Jonas too.

"Jonas, jump! That's an order!" Sam shouted.

Unpleasant as it was, it wasn't really a difficult choice in the end. He couldn't abandon Amelia. If he jumped, he could help her, and hopefully the others too, eventually. Captured, he'd do nobody any good.

Jonas had no time for a series of smaller breaths. He sucked in as huge an allotment as he dared, and leapt.

* * *

**A/N**: And that, my friends, is the point at which this story was stuck for the longest stint of writer's block. Not a great place for the characters to be stuck for six months, is it? LOL

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	10. Just the Three of US

**CHAPTER TEN** - _Just the Three of Us_

* * *

The river churned with indifferent power. Jonas had said to wait twenty seconds, but Amelia lost count after about four. Instead, she threw her thoughts on anything but the overwhelming desire to breathe and the terror induced by the dark, pressing walls that surged her toward the unknown. She waited for what seemed like a lifetime and then made her body relax, trusting in physics to tell her which way was up.

As soon as her body began to buoy, Amelia helped it along with several hard kicks. When her head broke the surface of the water she gulped with greed and in her enthusiasm pulled in a huge mouthful of river water. Immediately she plunged beneath the surface again, limbs weakening and water stinging in her windpipe like fire.

After about seven seconds of blinding, thrashing panic she felt a strong arm around her waist and with overwhelming relief realized she was being towed somewhere. At this point she didn't really care whether it was one of her fellow escapees or one of Anat's Jaffa.

Shortly after, she felt herself hauled to a narrow strip of riverbank choked with silt and the decaying remains of trees. She lay there a moment, hacking into the ground. When she finally looked up, it was Jonas who was crouched beside her, dividing his attention between her and their surroundings, each with equal concern.

"Jonas," she said, amazed she was able to get enough breath to form a word, but it was getting easier.

"No," he said, his voice betraying the change in circumstance she hadn't yet forgotten.

"Malek."

"Can you walk? We need to get away from the river, and quickly. They'll be looking for us."

* * *

It was a relief to get back to Earth, to comfortable clothes and familiar territory. Sarah shed the Hak'tyl costume with relish, wondering if it would be necessary to don it again. Larassette was impatient to begin her work with Nek'a immediately, so Sarah wasted no time in anything except changing clothes before she headed for the science level.

Nek'a was lying prostrate on a hospital bed in one of the SGC's isolation rooms. General O'Neill and a couple other members of the military were watching the scene from the observation room. As Sarah stepped in, she was struck with the feeling that the room was twice as crowded as it actually was. There was Larassette, of course, who was issuing sharp, rapid orders to her two fellow Tok'ra scientists. They were among those that had been rescued from Bilkah. True to her word, Larassette was cutting herself off from the rest of the Tok'ra for the sake of security, and General O'Neill was only too happy to facilitate this effort.

In addition to the Tok'ra, there were a few SGC medical personnel and a small, bumbling human man Sarah remembered being introduced as Doctor Lee. Doctor Lee was almost in the exact center of the room, near Nek'a's bed, engaged in a heated conversation with the Jaffa Jer'ek. Doctor Lee looked rather distressed. Jer'ek, decked out in full Jaffa regalia, was standing beside Doctor Lee wearing an expression not unlike a tiger that was being pestered by a particularly loud bumblebee. A few feet away, Teal'c was watching the pair with the faintest hint of amusement.

"Don't get me wrong!" Doctor Lee was saying, holding his hands up defensively. "It's got nothing to do with you personally. Well, it does, I mean obviously because you're the one who's presenting the issue, but what I'm trying to say is you just can't wear your uniform in the MRI lab."

"You would make a fool of me," Jer'ek snarled, and leaned forward a little. Doctor Lee took three steps backward and gave a nervous laugh.

"Well, I'll admit those lab outfits don't really lend themselves to the intimidating warrior image, but we'll all be wearing them, so we'll all look like non-warriors together."

"I will not be dictated to by the Tau'ri what I can and cannot wear!" Jer'ek snapped. Beyond him, Sarah saw Larassette glance up at the Jaffa's outburst, roll her eyes, and resume her work with little other thought.  
"In this case it's not so much the Tau'ri who are dictating so much as, well, _science_," said Doctor Lee, looking almost desperate. "When I say you can't wear your uniform, I really mean you _can't_. The machine will pull you straight in and you'll be stuck to it. You'll probably hurt yourself and we'll have to haul you off of it with a special forces crowbar SWAT team. Except come to think of it, crowbars would only make the situation worse, wouldn't they?"

Jer'ek stared at Doctor Lee for a long, stony moment, and then looked over at Teal'c. "Of what does he speak?" he asked.

"The technology produces a magnetic field of considerable strength. No manner of metallic object is permitted near the machine. Wearing your uniform inside would be most inadvisable."

"Then why does he not say as much?" Jer'ek asked, glancing at Doctor Lee with exasperation.

"This I do not know," Teal'c muttered under his breath.

"Very well. I will wear what I must if I am to report to Shan'dar what manner of treatment Nek'a received here." His eyes darted briefly to Larassette and narrowed slightly before he looked back at Teal'c. "Where might I find the proper attire?"

Teal'c and Jer'ek headed off on their own and Doctor Lee, who seemed to exhale with his whole body, spotted Sarah and headed toward her. "Doctor Gardner, nice to see you! We're getting ready to take Nek'a for an MRI. Shouldn't take too long but Larassette wanted to make sure—"

At that moment, Doctor Lee was clipped hard in the elbow by a passing Tok'ra. The impact caused them both to stumble and very nearly spill a nearby tray of tools. Activity in the room lulled for a brief moment while everyone stopped to stare at Doctor Lee trying to sort himself out.

Sarah took the opportunity to glance back at General O'Neill, who uncrossed his arms slightly and gave a shrug of hopelessness. He favored Doctor Lee with a longsuffering expression. Amid all of this flurry, Nek'a himself lay calm and unconscious, all signs of his agitation back on Dornalis completely gone.

Sarah made her way over to Larassette, who was talking in a low voice to the third Tok'ra, a short woman with closely cropped dark blond hair. The second Tok'ra gave a brusque nod as she received Larassette's instructions and broke off just as Sarah reached them.

"Doctor Gardner," Larassette greeted. "We're just about ready. Your Tau'ri medical experts are making sure the patient is prepared."

"What exactly is it you're hoping to find?"

"It is clear that Nek'a has suffered the effects of some kind of brainwashing technology. Your magnetic device is crude but it should be able to tell us the specific neural pathways affected in his mind and how severe the damage. Also, it should indicate if the damage is reparable. I wish to conduct further tests to measure the activity in his mind on an ongoing basis. Your Doctor Brightman has promised to assist me with that when we're done here." She glanced over at one of the doctors, a tall, calm woman who looked up at the sound of her name and nodded at Sarah.

"Larassette, we're ready to move him when you are."

"Very good."

A couple of hours later, Sarah, Larassette, Jer'ek, Teal'c, and Doctors Brightman and Lee all crowded around the collection of MRI scans that showed the results of Nek'a's session.

"Well, I think we can now safely confirm that he's been brainwashed," said Doctor Brightman. Beside her, Larassette stood with crossed arms thin-pressed lips and nodded her affirmation.

"How do you know?" asked Jer'ek. His eyes darted from scan to scan as if hoping that trying to look at all of them at once would better help him understand what he was looking at.

"Here," said Sarah, leaning forward. "If I'm reading this correctly," she began, and glanced at Doctor Brightman with an unspoken request to intervene if she got it wrong, "there's evidence of trauma along these relays all the way into the thalamus and further on into the hippocampus. That's the part of your brain," she explained, changing her glance over to Jer'ek, "that controls memory and a whole lot of other complicated cognitive functions we don't fully understand yet. Including, I'm willing to bet, the impulse of loyalty."

Doctor Brightman smiled. "I'm impressed, Doctor Gardner. I hadn't expected an archaeologist to know so much about brain function."

Sarah smiled sadly. "Oh, we both know that's just the basics," she said. "After I was freed from Osiris, I spent a few months with a team of neurologists from Area 51 to try and analyze the effects of long-term exposure to a symbiote on a living brain."

"I'm sure that was thrilling," remarked Doctor Brightman with a wry smile.

"You have no idea," Sarah replied.

"Well, to add to your very helpful analysis," Doctor Brightman said, and returned everyone's attention to the scans, "the neural pathways you pointed out are specific to visual input. My guess is that however this was accomplished, the stimulus was visual."

Larassette nodded and uncrossed her arms. "This is not in keeping with traditional methods of Goa'uld brainwashing."

"Oh, that's right!" said Doctor Lee. Sarah was amazed he'd gone so long without speaking. "I remember reading a file a while back… something about a chemical that SG-1 was exposed to in Montana that made them loyal to Seth?"

"Correct. But the use of _nish'ta_ has only limited utility. It is difficult to administer and the effects are not permanent."

"It is also possible to coerce the mind with the use of the sarcophagus," Teal'c observed.

Larassette nodded again. "But that is not what has happened to Nek'a. I would have recognized the symptoms at once." She glanced over at Jer'ek and, to Sarah's surprise, offered up a small smile. "The good news is that the effects on Nek'a's mind will not be permanent. Already he is beginning to recover that which is his, which undoubtedly accounts for his return to Dornalis. With Tok'ra technology I will be able to accelerate the process, but even left as he is he will make a full recovery."

The smallest bit of tension seemed to ease from Jer'ek and he nodded stiffly at the Tok'ra woman. "My thanks," he said.

Her expression became amused. "No need for thanks, I did nothing more than diagnose him. Unfortunately, we still don't know exactly how this was done to him, or by whom."

"I suggest we all take a break," Sarah put in. "Nek'a's in no immediate danger and it's been a long night. We can tackle these mysteries in the morning when we're rested."

"I agree, Doctor Gardner. Perhaps tomorrow when we return Nek'a to Dornalis we will know how to proceed."

"In the meantime," Doctor Brightman pointed out, the monitors will be recording Ne'ka's ongoing cognitive function."

Sarah returned to her quarters and methodically changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth, and climbed into bed, all without really paying attention to her actions. That something was still niggling the back of her mind. Some connection between Nek'a and the memories of Osiris that still lingered. Fortunately, she was too exhausted for the niggling to keep her awake, and she fell asleep almost as soon as she closed her eyes.

* * *

Amelia stumbled after Malek through the jungle. Her ordeal in the river had sapped her strength, so she focused on nothing but the placement of each footstep, one after the other. Malek made no effort to conceal their tracks. Amelia reflected that in this kind of terrain it would be almost pointless to try. It was clear Malek was more concerned with speed than with stealth.

They walked for what felt like hours until suddenly Malek stopped, staring at the nearby foliage intently. At first, Amelia could see nothing consequential to draw his attention, but after a while she thought that maybe the forest seemed a little bit thinner here, the trees younger.

"A long time ago," Malek said, "this was a village for the Jaffa in the service of Bastet. The forest has since reclaimed almost all traces of it, but Aledar and his friends used to play here as children. We can hide and rest here."

Amelia looked around. "Where?" she asked dubiously.

It turned out the Jaffa of centuries past had built a rather study root cellar. It took some hunting, but Malek finally found the entrance – a plain cover stone concealing a stone staircase that descended into the pungent black earth. Amelia helped him rig a camouflage of sorts out of branches to conceal the entrance and allow light and air into their refuge. Finally, they were left alone in the dank cellar with no activity to keep them company.

"Where are the others?" Amelia asked. She had a whole slew of questions she'd been biting back until now.

"Doctor Jackson, Colonel Carter, and Aledar did not make the jump into the river. The Jaffa were already through the door when I escaped. They've certainly been recaptured."

Amelia wasn't sure how to take this news. It had been obvious from Malek's behavior that he wasn't expecting to meet up with their friends as planned. She was disappointed to know they hadn't escaped, but she'd been fearful they'd perished in the attempt. "And your Tok'ra friend?" she asked, recalling the one who'd jumped first.

Malek shook his head gravely. "I have been searching for evidence that he got out of the river, but have found none."

"What are we going to do?"

"We're going to try to get to the Stargate," he said without hesitation. "Our friends are still in danger and the best chance of saving them lies in getting offworld. We'll get you back to Earth safely and Stargate Command can mount a proper rescue."

"Even if we get to the stargate, we have no GDOs. We can't get through the Earth gate," Amelia pointed out.

Malek considered this problem for a moment. "Then we'll go to Kelowna first," he said. "For now, let's get a few hours' rest. I have a plan, but it will need to wait until nightfall."

Amelia nodded. Then, somewhat hesitantly, she asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I am still weak from my efforts to cure Jonas Quinn but I am gaining strength."

"Can I talk to Jonas?" she asked.

He lowered his head. When he looked up again, Amelia couldn't help but let loose a big smile, for there was the face she truly remembered. Jonas's eyes lit on her with all of their gentle humor and he smiled back. "Hey," he said.

Feeling inexplicably nervous, she asked, "Are you okay?"

"That's a complicated question," he said, giving an awkward laugh and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "But yeah, I think it's going to be fine. Once we get out of this," he added, looking around.

He fell silent and they stared at each other awkwardly. Amelia bit her lip. It was stupid that they should feel awkward at all, only because two measly years had passed. Of course, having Malek there made it harder, but she didn't care, particularly not in the likely event she would die trying to escape from this planet.

She walked purposefully over and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him closely and fiercely. Only Jonas's surprise seemed to account for his brief hesitation before he returned the gesture, and Amelia almost broke with relief to feel his embrace again, which she'd almost wished to forget for the heartache. "I missed you so much," she whispered.

With that confession she began to relax, but only for a moment, for Jonas answered by pulling away just enough to take her face strongly in his hands and a heartbeat later he was kissing her with the hunger of a starved man. It was a sentiment she could well understand, being so homesick herself, and she told him so with the enthusiasm of her response.

The bliss was all too short-lived, though. Much sooner than Amelia would have wished, Jonas pulled rather sharply away, and the look of bewilderment on his face brought her screeching back down to Earth… or whatever this planet was called. "What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"Nothing, I—" he started. "It's—it's just confusing, that's all."

She brought her arms, which had found their way around his neck, back a bit and rested her hands on his shoulders. "Because of Malek?"

"Yeah," he said, looking uncomfortable.

"Because of how he feels about me," she added quietly.

He didn't say anything this time, but nodded, looking at her with apologetic eyes.

She smiled kindly, and cast about for a change of subject. "Do you really think we can get to the stargate?" she asked. With any luck, there would be time to sort out this emotional mess later, and she was going to fight for that chance.

He gave an ironic smile. "Believe it or not, yes. It's all a matter of the Goa'uld being predictable and knowing how to use that against them."

* * *

**A/N**: The things you learn from writing fanfic: MRI machines are _magnetic_. ;-)

For the record, I had quite a lot of fun writing Doctor Lee.

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	11. Recollection

**CHAPTER ELEVEN** - _Recollection_

* * *

Sarah slept fitfully, her dreams full of pulsing white light. She woke irritable. Already having endured one night's poor sleep on Dornalis, she'd been counting on getting some real rest before they continued the pursuit of Daniel, Colonel Carter, and the others.

She finally gave up and pulled herself out of bed. It was still about five in the morning, but as she padded through the chilly gray hallways towards the showers she met up with quite a number of SGC personnel. Daily life on the base always got an early start. She remembered that much from her brief stay just after being freed from Osiris.

As soon as the hot water hit her body, she began to relax. She let it run until the shower was full of steam and all of her skin was nice and warm before she reached for the shampoo bottle. By that time she was humming softly under her breath. She smiled at a memory that flitted through her head. She used to hum like that when she and Daniel had worked together late into the night in Doctor Jordan's office. Sometimes it would bother him and the struggle to decide whether or not to say anything to her had been amusing to watch. Then there were the times when she might as well not have been in the room.

She was rinsing her hair out and still thinking of the old days when the elusive piece of information she'd been trying to snatch from her memory suddenly dropped into place so sharply she was surprised it wasn't accompanied by a clunking sound. For a moment her hands froze and she stood frozen in shock, heedless of the soapy water streaming down from the top of her head into her gaping mouth. Then she spit and spewed, suddenly spurred into action by more than just the unpleasant taste of shampoo.

Sarah finished her shower, dried off, dressed, and was out the door with such haste that she almost forgot her visitor's badge and had to dart back into the locker room to get it. She didn't even bother going back to her quarters so she probably looked pretty silly showing up in the command center in her pyjamas.

"Is General O'Neill here?" she asked the SF on guard.

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am. He usually doesn't leave the base when one of the teams is unaccounted for. Especially—" he began, the seemed to think better of it and closed his mouth.

_Especially when it's SG-1_, Sarah finished the thought in her head. Aloud, she asked, "May I speak with him? It's very important."

"Of course, go right on in. Teal'c's already in there, though."

"Oh, that's even better," she assured him, and hurried on into the conference room. She darted through the quiet conference room towards General O'Neill's office. Already she could see the two men inside through the window. She stepped up to it and knocked briskly on the glass causing them both to look up from their conversation. Something in Sarah's face must have conveyed her urgency, for the General's own expression became piqued and he waved her right in.

"Doctor Gardner, you're up early."

"I'm sorry to disturb you General, but I've just remembered something. Something _very_ important and I came straightaway to tell you."

He frowned a little, pondering. "Something to do with Osiris?"

Sarah, a little winded from her hasty trip here, nodded. "And Anat. And Ba'al."

He raised his eyebrows. "Do tell."

"Back when the Goa'uld still ruled on Earth, Anat invented a device. It was a composite invention, a culmination of her life's work research into the human mind and various ways it could be influenced: hypnosis, subliminal messaging, suggested behavior, all manner of physical stimuli. She succeeded in inventing this brainwashing device – a prototype – that could successfully rewrite the loyalties of entire legions of enemy Jaffa in an instant."

"Sounds promising. And disturbing," General O'Neill remarked. "Please, continue. How did it work?"

"It wasn't very big," she said. "Another variant of the hand-device, but it emitted white light in these blinding pulsing flashes that would implant the mind with whatever she chose. It was a very dangerous breakthrough, one that could turn the tide of virtually any battle in Anat's favor. At the time she was nothing really more than one of Ba'al's favorite underlings, but suddenly she had the power to vault into System Lord status and beyond."

"Let me guess? The others didn't take to well to this scenario?"

Sarah shook her head. "Not in the least. They managed to overcome her before she had too many Jaffa at her disposal. Before that happened she destroyed the prototype and all her research to keep any rival Goa'uld from taking advantage of her knowledge."

"And somebody decided that knowledge was worth getting back," General O'Neill murmured. He leaned back in his big chair and rocked back and forth slightly, deep in thought.

"With the Jaffa rebellion gaining more momentum with each passing month, it is unsurprising that the Goa'uld would feel the revival this technology to be worth the risk," Teal'c observed. He couldn't keep a little bit of smugness from slipping onto his face.

"If your intelligence is right about Baal being behind the Goa'uld infiltration of the Trust," Sarah said to General O'Neill, "then I'm more than willing to believe it's him pulling the strings here."

"Oh, that's not a stretch, believe me," he replied, and ceased his swaying. "Okay, well, this is all very enlightening, but do any of your memories tell you where Anat might have set up her new mad scientist lab?"

Sarah's elation punctured somewhat. "I'm sorry, General, no. But I'll keep trying." Something else occurred to her. "You're right about her needing to establish research somewhere, though. The technology was never perfected, and so far it looks as though she still hasn't gotten it right."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, we've seen it for ourselves," she said. "It's initially very effective but the effects are not permanent. In order to keep her fighting force's loyalties from reverting, she's going to have to keep them all close on hand and use the technology on them repeatedly. My guess is it isn't going to be easy to keep an unusually large army of Jaffa a secret for very long."

"In the meantime, we can warn the leaders of the rebellion to spread the word about this new technology," Teal'c said, "and perhaps prevent the entrapment of more Jaffa."

General O'Neill pointed a strong finger at Teal'c. "Yes! And if we know what to expect, we may be able to use that to our advantage. Doctor Gardner, I don't suppose Osiris ever saw this device. Would you be able to tell us exactly what it looks like?"

Again, Sarah was forced to shake her head. "I'm sorry, no."

"Oh well. Hand device is a good start. Okay, let's spread the word to the others. You guys have got to be back on Dornalis in a few hours. Between now and then I'd like to come up with a plan the Jaffa might be able to help us put in place to get the upper hand with this gal. I'll call a conference for oh-six-thirty." He stood to his feet and glanced at Sarah. "You might want to change your clothes before then, Doctor." His eyes took in her pyjamas amusedly. "I'm all about the business casual, but some of the Tok'ra can be pretty stiff-upper-lip. They might not take you seriously." He rolled his eyes with a slight smile.

Sarah laughed. "At once, sir. Thank you."

* * *

In the heat of the day, Jonas and Amelia did their best to rest in their hideaway. It wasn't easy. What with the heat— sticky and stifling even underground – and the constant worry that Anat's Jaffa would track them here, it was a very long, tense, and dull morning.

Jonas went above long enough to make an attempt at covering their tracks and came back down. Together he and Amelia leaned up against the dirt wall of the cellar, close to the green-tinted patch of sunlight on the floor and tried to relax. They talked about everything and nothing for three hours, catching up on two years gone, carefully dancing around the obvious issue of what had happened earlier. The chatter helped Jonas to keep his mind off of the kiss, at least in part. It was impossible to forget it entirely. But he didn't want to dwell on it, how it had felt like coming home and taking something that didn't belong to him all at the same time.

Eventually, Amelia dozed off, but Jonas was too restless to do likewise. He left the hiding place long enough to find some food and came back quickly, afraid she'd wake to find him gone. He needn't have worried. It was several hours before she woke, giving him plenty of time to study her face and think carefully about his plans to keep her safe. Unfortunately, that also left him alone with a whole lot of time to spare for thinking about the Tok'ra in his head.

Malek had tried his best to fade into the background, but it wasn't easy for him. His feelings for Amelia and the circumstances the three of them now found themselves in gave certain thoughts a predilection to rise to the surface. Jonas wasn't sure how to deal with it, really. It was a really weird feeling to be jealous of one's self. A circle of thoughts chased itself over and over in Jonas's head. Malek envied Jonas. Jonas reciprocated this envy with a resentment that was difficult to articulate. He could find no dishonor in his rival's conduct. He could neither fault Malek for loving Amelia nor accuse him of stepping over the bounds of respect for her feelings. Furthermore, Malek had saved Jonas's life. There was absolutely no quarter for resentment.

And yet he wanted to be free of Malek more than words could possibly describe. Sam had been right. This wasn't something anyone should go through without the comfort of knowing the choice had been voluntary. Jonas was trying to decide if what he knew now would have changed his choice, and yet even if he had known about Malek's feelings, he could not possibly have imagined how affecting they would be.

He thought back to General O'Neill's disastrous encounter with a Tok'ra host over two years ago. In the weeks following that incident, Jack had been uncharacteristically withdrawn. It had taken a lot of patience, support, and coaxing from his team to get him to unwind again and even then he had never been willing to discuss the experience in depth. Jonas had not really understood it until now.

It was exactly the good traits in Malek that terrified Jonas. He thought of the kiss Malek and Amelia had shared in that meadow on Enna, mere days before Jonas had taken a similar daring step. He thought of how she'd begun to respond, her enjoyment in the gesture, Malek's happiness in the moment, and it was driven home to him just how precious a thing it was for love to be requited.

Malek had also made it perfectly clear to Jonas over the course of the last twenty hours that if _he_ were the one so blessed, he would not be squandering the situation on a flimsy excuse like differing home planets. This not-so-subtle disdain did not, admittedly, do much to quell Jonas's resentment, but he was helpless to argue. The biggest question, then, was what did he do about it?

_First thing, get her out of here. Keep her safe. Keep her alive. Then think about it._

When Amelia finally woke, the sun-patch was tilted in the opposite direction and the shade of green matched the late afternoon. "Good morning," said Jonas quietly with a smile as she sat up. He reached for one of the hard, melon-like fruits he'd picked up off the forest floor and whacked it against the nearby stone staircase. It split perfectly down the middle revealing the dark blue flesh inside. "Breakfast," he offered, smiling. "It's pretty good. Just sugar, really, but thick. It'll keep your mind off your stomach."

"Thanks," she said. "A favorite of Aledar's?" she asked, accepting it.

"Not so much, but it was the closest on hand. There's a lot better out there, believe me. I guess one of the advantages to growing up in a rainforest."

Amelia was attempting to scoop out some of the fruit with her fingers and not doing very well. Frowning, she took the half over to the staircase and whacked it again. Her blow wasn't quite as true as Jonas's but she did manage to split it enough to have two more manageable pieces, which she began eating like cantaloupe. Then to Jonas's surprise, she gave a happy sigh.

"What?" he asked, smiling despite his bemusement.

"Well, it may be just sugar," she said, "but it's been about ten days since I've had something sweet. What they fed us on the ha'tak wasn't exactly what you'd call sumptuous. And of course last night they didn't feed us at all."

"Yeah," he said. He'd eaten himself several hours ago while Amelia was still asleep.

"You know what's really stupid, though?" Amelia continued. Her fingers and mouth were getting a little bit stained.

"What's that?" Jonas asked, trying not to laugh.

"What I really want, more than anything else right now, is a clean pair of underwear."

Jonas couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. Amelia adopted a defensive expression. "What?" she asked. "It's true. I've been wearing the same clothes for almost ten days now. I've been in tunnels, outer space, a palace, a dungeon, a rain forest, a _river_ and now a really musty root cellar. I'm still not completely dry, by the way," she added. "When I get home, I will never take clean underwear for granted again."

Jonas chuckled quietly, still looking at her blue-stained fingers. They put him in mind of something else. "How is your hand?" he asked. He remembered her crying with relief on the cold floor of the ha'tak cell, forcing her to open her curled fingers and hating the Goa'uld for what they had done to her. Then he remembered wrapping her fingers and holding her until she slept.

Amelia swallowed. "They still hurt," she confessed, looking at her fingertips forlornly. "But I've been pretty distracted the last couple of days, so that helps to keep my mind off it." She looked at him and gave a brave smile. Then she said, "So when are we leaving?"

"As soon as you're finished eating," he said.

It was a long trek back to the fortress, longer for the fact that Jonas chose their path carefully and in a very roundabout fashion. The palace of every Goa'uld system lord Jonas had ever heard of had secret escape tunnels. You just had to know how and where to find them. Jonas was banking on the fact that Anat had been too preoccupied to bother finding the escape routes of Bubastis, which were better hidden than some.

"I really wish we had a flashlight or a torch," he said when they finally found the shoulder-high obsidian stone that marked the entrance to the tunnel Jonas had in mind. Dusk was falling, and in the distance the silhouette of the fortress was very far away indeed.

"Why?" Amelia asked.

"Well, the tunnel has natural ventilation, or did, but no light source of its own beyond what little could get through the camouflage. It'll be dark soon. You're not claustrophobic, are you?" he asked, turning a glance to her, concerned. "The tunnel is fairly narrow."

Slowly, she shook her head. "I've never had to navigate a long, narrow tunnel in the dark so maybe I don't know, but I think I'll be all right."

"Okay," he said. Then he crouched down by the base of the stone, searching around with his fingertips, looking for the hidden catch he knew had to be there somewhere. This would be a day wasted if he couldn't figure it out. "This kind of reminds me of the obelisk back on P3X-651," he said, looking up at her, "only smaller."

She smiled. "And rounder. But I never got to see the obelisk for myself, remember?"

"Oh, that's right. And then—" Jonas grunted slightly as his fingers brushed over a promising swell in the rock and he pressed in closer to get a better grip on it, "—the Jaffa had to go and blow it up. Pity. There!"

With a creak of long-stagnant mechanics, a panel at the base of the device opened up revealing a key pad for a ring platform. "Well, this is it," he observed. Frowning, he looked around. "Stand… there," he said, pointing at a patch of ground about two meters to Amelia's left. "That's where they are, I think." She complied, and when she was in place, turned and looked at him expectantly.

Jonas pushed the common sequence on the keypad and was rewarded by the familiar sounds of rings preparing to transport. He sprung up, and darted to Amelia's side. As the rings launched out of the ground to surround them, Jonas seized Amelia's hand and turned them both so that they were firmly facing the direction of the fortress. Then the rings snatched them out of sight and underground.

"Well," said Jonas aloud to the blanketing darkness, "if our goddess Anat is any kind of efficient, she'll probably pick up on that ring activation sooner or later. Best to move as fast as we can."

"Okay," said Amelia. Her fingers were tight on his.

"Stay close," he said softly. He reached out cautiously until he found the tunnel wall, which was only a couple of steps away, careful to keep facing the right direction. Then, using the wall as a guide, he began the slow progress toward Bubastis.

"What was the purpose of this thing, anyway?" Amelia asked. "I mean, I know you said it was an escape tunnel, but an escape to what, exactly? If the stargate is where we're _going_—"

"She kept a tel'tak hidden out in some caves in the river valley."

"And you don't think it would still be there?"

"I know it isn't."

"How?"

"Malek and Aledar used it to escape from this planet when they first met." If it hadn't been dark, he would have grinned at her.

"Okay then. And did they use this tunnel too?"

"Yeah, except they had torches."

"Lucky them."

They made their way down the tunnel, maintaining an acceptable balance between caution and speed, and the further they went, the more Jonas discouraged conversation. The stone tunnels would carry their voices quite a way.

After what seemed like hours of walking, Jonas began to see the faint haze of light in the distance that signaled the end of the tunnel and their passage into the fortress of Bubastis. Getting here had been the easy part. Reaching the stargate and getting through it would be quite a bit trickier, despite his reassurances to Amelia. Anat had a surplus of Jaffa and Jonas and Amelia were known escapees with no weapons.

Indeed, a little prioritization would not be out of line. With that thought, Jonas pulled himself together and started to put together a plan.

* * *

**A/N: **I got a huge kick out of writing a British character's POV, just so I could spell pyjamas. I think I made a whole LJ entry on the subject at the time. LOL

Only one more scene to write for this story. Yay!!

Did I ever mention how much I love feedback?

Saché


	12. Bottle Neck

**CHAPTER TWELVE** - _Bottle Neck_

* * *

The tunnel ended with a lattice-work grate that served as part of the palatial decorations, but not before two extremely narrow tunnels branched away. The left would take them within closest proximity of the stargate.

Jonas and Amelia crawled to grate on their stomachs and carefully peeked through. Below them they saw Jaffa guards aplenty and quite a lot of people coming and going.

"Those are the doors to the throne room," Amelia whispered as quietly as possible. "When we were first brought here."

"I recognize them too," Jonas nodded. It was nice to have at least one memory that was his own and not twice-borrowed from the experiences of his guest. "I suspect this tunnel was multifunctional. A means of escape, yes, but also a means of spying on guests, slaves, you name it."

"How very paranoid."

Jonas looked over at her with a sideways smile. "Yeah, well, that's the Goa'uld for you."

She grinned back at him before turning her attention back to the scene below them. Her grin faded and she gripped his forearm. "Jonas," she whispered urgently.

He followed her glance and saw a new group of Jaffa approaching the corridor, escorting a prisoner.

"Sam." Her hands were bound but she seemed to be otherwise all right. Jonas and Amelia watched the Jaffa lead her through the doorway into the throne room.

Jonas touched Amelia's shoulder. "Come on," he whispered, pulling her gently back. She followed without question. Using the stone walls around them for a guide, he turned back down the hallway and took the branch of the tunnel that followed the wall into the throne room. "There's another window into the throne room itself," he explained.

When they found the second lattice, they settled in as before. Jonas wished the room was not so open. The reverberations made the conversation less distinct and therefore more difficult to hear. Fortunately, the presence of Malek meant Jonas's hearing was sharper than usual.

"What have you done with Commander Malek?" Sam's voice carried their way, full of pointed concern.

Anat was draped on her throne almost as sensually as her silks were draped on her small body. She gave a small, coy smile and stood to her feet, where she began pacing the dais like a self-satisfied cat. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" she pointed out. "Commander Malek seems to have disappeared from his host of these past five decades. Didn't you know? I suppose it doesn't matter. Either way, it was very foolish of him to leave his host alive for our benefit."

"Oh no," Jonas whispered. A chill of fear and anguish that was almost entirely Malek's raced through every nerve in his body.

"What?" Amelia looked over at him, her wide brown eyes fearful.

"Aledar," he said simply. Anat could have killed or tortured him, but Malek knew something easier and far more profitable Anat could do with an abandoned Tok'ra host.

"What have you done with him?" Sam asked. Jonas marveled at her calm.

"Your Tok'ra friend's host was in a unique position to help me. I merely capitalized upon that opportunity. The same way I'm going to do with you."

"I won't help you."

"You won't have a choice. My loyalty device is very effective but it still has flaws. You have experience with forms of technology which I do not. I believe you can correct the flaws and thereby seal my assured dominance of the System Lords."

"I think I missed the part where I don't have a choice, because I'm still feeling rather choosy."

"Do you think she's spent enough time around General O'Neill?" Amelia whispered, but this time Jonas did not have the heart to share her amusement. His mind was still focused on Aledar.

Anat held up a hand device in a style unfamiliar to any of Jonas's or Malek's experiences. "I didn't want to risk actually using the device on you but I am running out of time and the risk now outweighs the reward. Besides, if your loyalties are turned to me then I won't have to be suspicious of sabotage. Hold her," she barked at the nearest Jaffa.

Sam struggled a bit as the two guards held her by either arm. Jonas didn't have a clear picture of what was going on, but Sam's continued efforts to resist were confirmed as Anat ordered a third Jaffa to force Sam's eyes open. Then she activated the hand device.

"Amelia, shut your eyes!" he had the presence of mind to whisper frantically. Together they did so, just as what Jonas could only assume to be a very bright white light filled the throne room in the space of half a heartbeat. He glanced over at Amelia, who had not only closed her eyes, but buried her head in her arms as well.

He looked up to see that Sam's body now hung limp and weakened between her two captors. Anat had lowered her hand and was staring down at her work with the same self-satisfaction. "Take her to her cell and let her rest. We'll begin in two hours," she said. The Jaffa turned around. Jonas saw that Sam's eyes were still opened, though she had a dazed look, as though she'd just had all the wind knocked out of her.

"Wait!" Anat called before the Jaffa had completely gotten to the door. They paused and turned back to her. She marched purposefully off the dais and across the room toward them. "I just need to be sure," she muttered, staring down at Sam again thoughtfully. She leaned down, held Sam's face roughly by the jaw and said, "Whom do you serve?"

There was a very long, anxious pause before Sam replied, her voice as distant as her expression. "Only you, my goddess," she said.

Anat seemed most satisfied. "That will do for now," she said. "Now, to her cell, as I commanded."

"Yes, my queen."

When Sam and her escort were gone, Anat turned to her first prime. "Is there any news on the escapees?" she said, glaring hard at him.

"We recovered the body of one of the Tok'ra," he said. "He perished in the river after suffering a concussion. We believe he collided with the foundation of the fortress itself in his attempt to escape. But Jonas Quinn and the girl continue to elude capture."

"Well, double your search efforts," she snapped. She sat on her throne with a petulant huff, looking very much like a teenager who was having a boring afternoon.

"Yes, my queen."

Jonas tugged Amelia away from the lattice once more. "We've got to get out of here," he said. "The Tok'ra are in great danger."

"Well, getting out was the plan," Amelia reminded him. She looked confused. "But when did this become about the Tok'ra? What about Colonel Carter and Daniel?" she asked, looking a little bit angry. "And Aledar. Jonas—" her features softened ever so slightly. "What happened to Aledar?"

If the tunnel hadn't been so narrow he would have paced. "Malek and I are both fairly certain that Anat found a new symbiote for him. Amelia, she sent him back to the Tok'ra. She made him into a Goa'uld. She made him into her spy and it's all my fault."

Amelia was quiet for a moment, her eyes wide and frightened. "Oh, Jonas—" she said. She reached out a hand and rested it comfortingly on his arm. Then she swallowed. "What do we do?"

He breathed deeply, letting his guilt and alarm join forces inside until they stirred up a strange calm, one of clear, resolute purpose. "First we need weapons. Then we get to the gate. Fortunately, as most secret escape tunnels should, this one will take us right to it."

* * *

As handy as the secret passages were, they did not include a private entrance to the armory. In the end, Jonas decided to stay away from that section of the palace altogether. Instead, he came up with a different plan, one that took advantage of the fact that it was nighttime. While Anat still had troops aplenty roaming the corridors, the numbers were significantly less than they would have been in daylight.

Even fewer were the number of servants up and about. The first part of the plan, therefore, went without a hitch. They found clothes for Amelia in a linen room near the pantry. There were several different uniforms to choose from, in fact. Jonas chose one for Amelia that would be worn by a higher-ranking slave: clean, attractive, and well-cut. It was a soft white garment with a wide, woven sash, and wide-legged pants that looked like a skirt when she was standing still. Amelia was mostly relieved that it didn't live up to the cliché alien slave girl costume. She would have hated to try and fight armored Jaffa wearing nothing but a gold bikini.

Jonas estimated it was about two hours before dawn when they were ready to implement the second part of the plan.

"What if they talk to me in Goa'uld?" Amelia whispered concernedly. They were huddled close together beside the narrow door that led from the labyrinth into the corridor proper. She was wearing her costume and had a heavy, two-handled jug in her hands for a prop.

"Pretend you're dumb," Jonas suggested. "I don't think it will make much difference. I only need a couple of moments. You remember what to do?"

She nodded, heart suddenly beating rapidly.

"Okay." Jonas pressed his ear carefully against the stone wall and listened for a moment. "It's all clear," he said. "Let's hurry."

"Good luck," Amelia whispered.

Jonas triggered the catch to the door, which opened with a soft scraping of stone. Amelia ducked out first, and headed to the far end of the hall, which made a right turn and continued. She set her jug down and watched as Jonas climbed up into the rafters above her, using one of the wide torch stands nearby for purchase. He moved quickly and gracefully, his movement demonstrating years of practice. Amelia wondered if that practice was his or Malek's. She suspected the latter. Once he was in position – not thoroughly concealed, but enough so no one would notice him right away – Amelia allowed herself to relax just a smidge and look around her, sizing up what was theoretically supposed to happen next.

It was probably a good fifteen minutes before the patrol they'd been hoping for finally could be heard stomping down the corridor. Although the wait had been agonizing, it was also strangely encouraging. With so much quiet going on in this part of the palace, Amelia's confidence in their plan went up a couple of more notches.

The two Jaffa were forced to stop when they reached Amelia. She'd planted herself directly in the middle of the narrow corridor and bent down on the pretense of retying the complicated leather and gold fixtures on the sandals that came with her costume. Her heavy jug was resting beside her, close at hand. She didn't look up at the Jaffa until they were forced to stop beside her. One of them spoke, and predictably, did not sound very pleased.

"_Kree shak nell, lo'ten_," he snarled. "_Dak keenes ute_."

Amelia looked up at them then, as if startled, and tried to make it plain from her expression that she was both terrified and had no idea what they were saying.

They must have gotten the message. "Stand aside, lo'ten," the taller of the two said, scowling down at her. "Know your place. Why do you loiter here and not make way for the presence of your lady's warriors?"

Amelia swallowed, rapidly trying to think of what to say, wishing that she wasn't freezing up. As Jonas pointed out, it wasn't even important what she said. It didn't need to be a long conversation, but she was panicking nonetheless. While her thoughts cast about, her eyes fell on the zat gun holstered at the Jaffa warrior's side and paused there a moment.

That was a mistake. Drawing on what must have been a highly tuned level of paranoia, the warrior immediately let out a sharp warning in Goa'uld and uncoiled, making to point at her with his staff weapon. He didn't complete his objective, however. He was halfway through getting it into position when Jonas finally jumped from his hiding place right on top of his unsuspecting head.

Amelia acted quickly, reverting to Jonas's instructions and clinging to them with desperate focus. She seized her heavy jar by both handles and leapt up into a stronger crouch. Then she swung it with all her might at the second Jaffa, striking him forcefully behind the knees before he could come to the aid of his comrade. With the Jaffa momentarily stunned, Amelia was able to follow this strategic blow with a second, this time bringing her weapon around from the other side and hitting him hard in the stomach. There he would be vulnerable despite his armor. Then she dropped the jug with a clang that seemed to reverberate enough to fill the whole palace. She seized her victim's zat gun, opened it, and shot him in the neck. Only when he slumped over did she turn her attention to the scuffle between Jonas and the larger Jaffa.

Jonas had explained to her that a close combat like this one was easier than it looked. Unless the Jaffa could gain a little distance on Jonas, his staff weapon was not so effective, and Jonas gave no quarter. She remembered their escape from the dungeon, how good at the hand-to-hand fighting he'd been there too. But she could see that he was getting tired.

Amelia's hands tightened on the zat gun, wondering if she could risk firing without hurting Jonas. It was comforting to think that even if she hit him with friendly fire, he wouldn't die, but they really couldn't afford to lose the precious window of time for him to recover. They were counting on that time to continue with their escape plans before the fact that these two Jaffa were missing came to the others' attention.

The fight shifted slightly, and Jonas was able to look slightly past his opponent and catch her eye. His own eyes flashed eerily white and he gave a stiff, authoritative nod that she barely caught.

"Malek," Amelia whispered.

In a surge of speed, it was clear that the Tok'ra had resumed control of his host's body. Subtle changes in posture, in the speed, efficiency, and crispness of his fighting spoke decades of experience. Amelia was still staring when he ducked an overhead blow by the shaft of the staff weapon and spun away, well out of the fight.

"Amelia, now!" he shouted. She gave a start. The Jaffa's finger was beginning to pull the trigger of the staff weapon, which was pointed straight at Malek's face by the time she finally got her shot off. The Jaffa fell. His shot went wide. Malek threw himself forward to avoid a graze, and a moment later everything fell into a hazy silence.

Slowly, Malek and Amelia turned to look together at the flaming scorch mark in the wall behind them. The small lick of fire died out, but the black residue caused her to swallow guiltily. "Sorry," she said.

He looked up at her and then got to his feet. "You did well," he said, looking pleased. "And now we must hurry."

* * *

Larassette accompanied Teal'c and Sarah back to Dornalis to return Nek'a to his family and people. Larassette assured the Jaffa there that, based on her examination and research, the young warrior would largely recover, though his progress would be slow and steady. She sat quietly at the conference table while Sarah reiterated to the leaders of Dornalis her knowledge of Anat's brainwashing device and the Jaffa leaders discussed the matter. Sarah observed that there was something amiss with the Tok'ra woman, or at least with her young host. She seemed withdrawn and overly pensive, speaking only when addressed.

They did not stay the night on the planet. There was no need, really, but it was quite late when they returned to the SGC. Sergeant Harriman informed them that General O'Neill was getting some highly elusive sleep, which Sarah was relieved to hear. He'd been looking a bit gaunt the past few days. They agreed their update could easily wait a few more hours and the small group parted ways to get some rest.

Rest was easier said than done for Sarah. The newly unearthed memories of Osiris clamored and clawed for her attention. Whether because they had been too-long suppressed or because of how critical they were to the current situation, Sarah could not say. In the end, tired as she was, she left the confines of her room to try and walk off her agitation. She wandered the deserted hallways for a while, their silence and regularity surprisingly calming.

Her wanderings eventually took her to the mess, where she was surprised to find Larassette sitting alone at one of the tables. Judging by her morose posture, Sarah guessed it was in fact the host Kasi she was seeing, not the symbiote. She was turning a data crystal over and over with one hand and didn't seem to notice Sarah until she spoke up.

"May I sit here?" Sarah still felt an instinctual dislike for the other woman for being Tok'ra and she wanted to fight that tendency. It wasn't right that Osiris could still lay claim on so much of her.

Kasi looked up and stared at Sarah in surprise. "Of course, Doctor."

"Couldn't sleep?"

Kasi shrugged. "I don't sleep as much as other humans."

"Of course." Silence fell for a moment, and Sarah cast about until her eyes fell on the data crystal. "May I ask what it is you're holding there?"

The crystal stopped flipping. "It contains my reports from the past few days – the attack on Bilkah, our numerous rescue efforts, the data I collected from my observations of Nek'a—" She paused, and her eyes flitted briefly up to Sarah's face "—and your report about Anat and her brainwashing device." She seemed hesitant, as though she expected Sarah to object to this last.

Sarah considered a moment. "If General O'Neill thought it safe to trust you with this information, I can raise no objection."

Slightly more relaxed, Kasi gave a solitary nod and silence descended once more, slightly less empty this time.

At last, Kasi spoke up. "The report of what you learned from your memories has disturbed me greatly," she said.

"In what respect?"

Kasi opened her mouth, her expression pained. Whatever she was trying to say, it must have been difficult for her. Finally she gave a fierce frown and said, in a rush, "It's a personal matter. You see, I was in love." She sighed. "I'll correct myself. I'm still in love. With one of the other Tok'ra, Delek. He was—" she paused, staring off for a moment, and then shook her head, as if she'd decided trying to explain it was pointless. "He was charismatic," she concluded. "And very handsome. I'm very young for a host, it was easy to get swept up in the romance with a person so much older and—" she broke off again and gave another sigh.

"What happened?" Sarah asked gently.

"He betrayed the base at Bilkah to the Goa'uld. He betrayed his own people. I heard it once said that love and hate are two sides of the same coin. I know it now to be true. I've never felt such anger."

"How do you know it was him?"

"He was waiting for me when we returned for the rescue attempt. He invited me to join him." The young host's bright blue eyes were darkened by bitterness as she spoke. "I shot him twice with the zat'ni'katel."

"You killed defending your teammates," Sarah put in.

Kasi shook her head. There were half-formed tears in her eyes but she made an obvious effort to keep them contained. The fierce set of her jaw tightened. "No. I killed in anger. I will not shroud that fact."

"I'm sorry," Sarah said softly. She put a hand over the other woman's comfortingly, remembering the malicious hatred that had once inflicted evil with no compunction at her hands. She shivered.

"I am not one to dwell on my mistakes, Doctor Gardner. I made my choice. I believe it was the wrong choice, for all it was a hot-headed impulse. There is no changing what has happened, but that is not what torments me now. I can deal with a simple question of right and wrong, but I cannot bear the uncertainty of knowing whether or not my hatred was misplaced. If what you tell me of this device is true, is it possible that Delek was not a traitor at all?" She looked up at Sarah, half hopeful, half fearful. "That I needlessly killed the man I loved?"

Sarah's stomach swooped. So that was why Kasi had begun divulging this personal story so readily. She was looking for an answer. Sarah could only wonder if it was the one she wanted to hear.

"The device has no effect on those with symbiotes," she said slowly. "Or those who have ever been hosts. I'm so sorry."

Kasi digested this news with outward stoicism. She sat quietly for a moment, and then stood to her feet and walked several paces away, her back turned to Sarah. She was trembling slightly. Finally, she turned her face partially back to Sarah and gave a half-choked laugh. "I honestly don't know whether or not I'm relieved or disappointed," she said. "Thank you, Doctor Gardner."

She walked back to the table, retrieved her data crystal, and left the mess. Sarah sat a while longer before she followed, turning off the lights on her way out.

* * *

When the fight ended, Malek gave Jonas back control of his body. He offered up an apology for the abrupt way in which he'd taken over, but as neither he nor Jonas were actually sorry about it, it was a perfunctory gesture only. Jonas and Amelia hauled the two unconscious Jaffa into the secret passage where Jonas helped himself to the smaller one's armor.

"What's a lo'ten?" Amelia asked while Jonas was dressing. She was facing the opposite direction down the corridor.

"Sorry?" he asked. He'd just pulled the mail shirt down over his shoulders. "You can turn around now, by the way," he added, amused. Amelia did so and blushed a bit when he smiled at her. "I'm sorry, what did you ask me? I couldn't hear."

"The Jaffa kept calling me 'lo'ten'," she repeated. "What is that?"

"Oh, it's sort of a second caste slave," Jonas said, thinking aloud. "A lo'_tar_ is a system lord's most trusted human slave. I'm guessing your outfit signifies you as a lo'ten because you're under consideration to be promoted to lo'tar."

"Lucky me," Amelia commented wryly. "What happens to the losers?"

He made a meaningful expression. "Let's just hope you win," he said with a wink, and she grinned. "Are you ready? We'd better do this quick before people start waking up."

The levity was gone from her face in an instant and she was all business. "Lead the way," she said, handing her zat gun to Jonas. He put it in his holster, but kept it loose. He'd give it back to her when they reached their destination. He hoisted his staff weapon. Amelia took a torch off the wall and together they headed down the thin passageway.

The Stargate in Bubastis was underground, the last in a long series of rooms set up like a chain for defensive purposes. Given that he and Amelia were still unaccounted for, Jonas had no doubt that Anat would have each one of them heavily guarded, an impassable obstacle course of manpower.

Fortunately, Anat seemed to be unaware of Bastet's tunnels, which had an access point directly into the gate room itself. Jonas's plan was simple. They would take the Jaffa in the gate room by surprise by storming out of the access point as quickly as symbiote-and-humanly possible, deal with the Jaffa they found there and barricade themselves inside long enough to dial the gate and get safely on the other side.

The plan was straightforward, and could very well succeed, but Jonas's stomach twisted with fear nonetheless. He had no idea of knowing how many Jaffa they would face in the initial onslaught. There were no convenient spy holes into the gate room. They would have to go in blind. He didn't know if he could get to the door fast enough to keep more from coming in, and all it took was one stray staff blast and Amelia would be dead.

In the darkness of the tunnel he reached for her hand with his free one. She threaded her fingers into him and squeezed comfortingly. He marveled at her calm. "Do you remember the symbols to Langara?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Madrona, Pangar?" he prodded. He'd made her memorize several addresses, not wanting to take the chance of one of them being inaccessible. He wished he knew where Earth's alpha site, but that information had never been disclosed to Langara or the Tok'ra since its last relocation.

"I remember, Jonas." They walked in silence the rest of the way, down two steep, narrow staircases, deeper into the bedrock. There would be no second chances.

Finally, they found the long stretch of unremarkable wall Jonas was looking for. It took several minutes to find the release for the door, a series of indentations in the stone that could be grasped with the fingers to lift the hidden latch. Jonas studied it a few minutes more.

"The door swings into the passageway," he determined at last. "Get on the other side of me."

Amelia edged around him. "Now what?"

"Get the zat. And kill the light. I think we're ready. I'll go first. Once I'm through, keep the door open with your foot, but don't come through until I call for you. Promise me." He caught her gaze and held it fiercely. She stared at him in stubborn protest for a moment before she finally nodded reluctantly.

"I promise."

"Are you ready?"

She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something. She seemed frustrated.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

By way of reply, Amelia leaned forward and kissed him softly. Only then could he feel her tremble of fear. He longed to hold her, but his hands were both occupied and so were hers. He let the kiss linger as long as he dared, longer than he ought to have. Before he lost his focus entirely he softly persuaded her to break free.

"Just in case," she said quietly, and gave him a tremulous smile. Then she took a deep breath. "Okay, now I'm ready."

"Blow out the torch."

She did, and they were doused in darkness. With a mental note to Malek that he could feel free to take the wheel again should circumstances warrant it, Jonas heaved the door open.

The room was just as he remembered it. Black stone, every surface polished. A perfect cube. The narrow entrance was to his left. The stargate was to his right. The DHD was in the exact center of the room.

All of this he took in within a fraction of a second. He didn't even bother counting the number of Jaffa in the room, for his eyes lighted on something that raised his hopes substantially. In one fluid motion, Jonas raised his staff weapon and honed in on his first and most strategic target. He fired.

The door mechanism burst into flames, a miniature explosion, and Jonas turned his face away briefly to protect his eyes from any debris that might reach him. The remains of the controls continued to spark and sputter, still aflame, and the Jaffa were shouting and getting their bearings, but the damage had been done. The stone door that would block any disastrous reinforcements had fallen solidly into place from above.

Jonas didn't even stop to watch it. The moment he'd released the first shot he was already in search of the next target. Keeping his back to the wall, he began a systematic sweep of the room, the staff weapon brandished and unyielding. Jonas was aware almost instantly of how his fortunes were proving better than he'd originally thought. Most of the Jaffa had been facing the entry when his attack had begun. Their backs had been turned to him. He had managed to count eight in total just after he'd destroyed the door controls, and four of them were already down.

"Amelia!" he called through the din. He could feel a draft of cooler air as she responded, hauling open the door once again. "Get to the DHD," he called loudly. "And stay low!" The room was already thick with smoke from the warring staff weapons. She might actually have a bit of cover.

His sniper-like advantage was swiftly coming to a close. The other Jaffa seemed to have been too well-trained to stay at such an optimal range for Jonas to pick them off like ducks on a proverbial pond. In this enclosed space, the smartest course of action would be to charge into close range, which all four of the them were now doing.

Jonas felt Amelia brush past him as fast as she could, and was relieved to note that she crouched down as best she could once she was beyond the safety net that Jonas provided. The Jaffa gave a start at the sight of her, and the nearest began turning his weapon toward her. Jonas barely got off a shot in time to stop him, but the fifth Jaffa fell.

The other three seemed to decide Jonas was a more immediate threat than Amelia and all three continued charging him. Something about their formation raised Jonas's hackles. Malek was screaming warning bells in his head. Jonas didn't waste any time. He gave a violent duck, stumbling slightly before he hit the floor. The three staff weapons fired simultaneously, making the air above his head crackle with fire. Jonas felt sparks on his skin and rolled away from the wall, hoping maybe he could trip one or more of his opponents before their vision recovered from the murky haze of the after-attack.

It didn't work as well as planned. Instead, he just hit two pairs of strong legs. He still had his weapon yes, but it was very unwieldy to use from this position. Jonas was trying to get an acceptable grip on his staff weapon when one of his opponents beat him to that tactic, striking him hard on the back of his shoulder. Jonas gave an involuntary cry of pain and thrashed out with his feet but his feet didn't make contact with anything but air.

He heard Amelia's zat fire. Gritting his teeth and pushing past the pain he heaved his torso upward, twisting out of the way as the Jaffa who'd been getting ready to deliver another blow fell forward. Having gotten to one knee, Jonas hoisted his staff weapon and swung it like a club at the second Jaffa's kneecaps. It wasn't a strong blow, but using a technique he pulled straight from Malek's mind, Jonas released his hold on the staff and then caught it again with a stronger grip. He was then able to follow his first strike with a second, much more effective one. Crippled, the second Jaffa's attempt to decapitate Jonas went wide, though Jonas ducked the blow just to be on the safe side.

Amelia, who was using the DHD for cover, got the last remaining Jaffa with a single, clean shot from her zat.

A silence descended on the haze. For half of a heartbeat the two of them listened to the sounds of the other Jaffa trying to get through the door. The angry shouting seemed to spur them both. Amelia dashed over to him and helped him to his feet. "No time to waste," Jonas muttered through gritted teeth. "They'll be bringing explosives any minute."

She put one of his arms over her shoulders and together they hobbled over to the DHD. "You want to do the honors?" he asked.

"Why not?" she asked. "I've never gotten to before."

She pushed the seven symbols in the sequence he'd taught her and pushed the center button. Together they watched the Stargate spring to life.

* * *

Jack hated waking up on the base. Nothing in the light let him know how long he'd been asleep or even if the sun was shining in the sky. When any of his teams were in less-than-likely-to-survive status, he didn't sleep well. When it was SG-1 he was forced to accept sleep aids from the infirmary. Chemically-induced rest had never done much for him.

Bleary-eyed, Jack pulled himself up to a sitting position and fumbled with the lamp stand until the room was filled with weak light. Then he pulled on his jacket and shoes, brushed his teeth, and went to find Walter. And coffee.

He was just stepping off the elevator when the klaxons sounded. "Unauthorized activation!!"

It could be anything, something as innocent as a sprained ankle on Alaris, but Jack's pace quickened with a wild flare of instinctive hope.

* * *

**A/N**: I defer to this chapter should anyone ever accuse me of copping out on action sequences. Bwuaha.

(wonders how to say feedback in Spanish)

Cheers!

Saché


	13. Conditional

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN** - _Conditional_

* * *

Seeing General O'Neill waiting for them when they came through the gate from Jonas's homeworld was a memory Amelia would cherish for a long time. Relief and elation at their triumphant escape were making her feel almost giddy.

Jonas seemed to be taking things more in stride. "Jack," he said, looking thoroughly exhausted. Amelia had to remind herself that it hadn't been that long ago he'd been almost dead with injury. It felt like years had passed. "Sam and Daniel are being held prisoner in Bastet's former stronghold Bubastis. They—" he paused for breath and gave a wince, reaching for his side where he'd been struck in his fight with the Jaffa. Amelia stepped closer.

"Hey, easy," said Jack, stepping forward. "You can tell me everything as soon as you've been checked out by Doctor Brightman." He glanced over at Amelia. "Both of you."

"Oh, I'm fine, General," she began to assure him. "I—"

"Amelia," he warned lowly.

"Yes, sir." For the first time in hours, Amelia remembered her burnt fingers. They still ached, but only if she stopped to realize it. She'd just been too preoccupied to think about them.

"That's right. Let's get you to the infirmary," said Jack. He nodded at one of the SF's standing guard, and the young man moved to help Jonas much as Amelia had done just before they'd escaped Bubastis.

She and Jack followed. "By the way," he added, "nice outfit."

Amelia could not help but grin. She blamed it on the adrenaline. "Thanks. I think I'll keep it as a souvenir."

"I can recommend a great dry cleaner's."

She smiled again. Then something abruptly occurred to her. "Oh, um, General? There's something we probably ought to tell you."

Ahead of them, Jonas twisted a bit to catch her eye and gave a wry smile. Jack noted this exchange and frowned. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not," Jonas said, and turned to face forward again. "Tell him, Amelia."

"Well, Malek is inside Jonas."

Jack stopped in his tracks, causing everyone else to do the same. "Malek— what?" he asked.

"It's kind of a long story."

The general passed a hand over his longsuffering face. "Oh, for crying out loud,' he muttered. Then he sighed, shaking his head. "Well, add it to the list." He gestured forward with his hand. "Let's keep moving."

* * *

When Sarah woke up, it took her several long, groggy moments to register why the alarm clock sounded even more obnoxious than usual. Then she realized it wasn't the alarm clock, but the phone. It was General O'Neill, and the news he had made her more alert than the world's strongest pot of coffee. They knew where Daniel was. More importantly, he was probably still alive.

She'd dressed in record time and was one of the first to arrive in the briefing room. General O'Neill was talking on the phone in his office. He saw her, gave a distracted nod, and kept his attention on whoever he was talking to on the other end.

Sarah looked around and extremely surprised to see the young alien, Jonas Quinn, standing near the top of the spiral staircase. Even more surprising, he was deep in conversation with Larassette, who seemed to be heeding his words with particular consideration. As far as Sarah knew, the two had only just been introduced. Yet their posture suggested they were very familiar.

Almost simultaneously, the two looked over and saw Sarah. "Doctor Gardner," Larassette greeted, and Sarah stepped closer, close enough to realize, with a jolt of shock, that between now and the time Jonas Quinn had departed on a rescue mission a week ago, he'd somehow acquired a symbiote.

"You're Tok'ra," she blurted, before she could stop herself. "How—?"

"I'm sure everything will be explained in the briefing," he said simply.

Larassette stepped forward, "Doctor Gardner, I'd like you to meet Commander Malek. And of course you know Jonas Quinn."

Between excitement over the good news about Daniel and amazement at this new twist, Sarah became even more impatient for the meeting to begin. They were soon joined by Teal'c, Colonel Reynolds and a handful of other military personnel, as well as a girl with pale red curls and freckles whom General O'Neill introduced as one Amelia Kinsey. When everyone had arrived and they all took their seats, Sarah found herself between Teal'c and Larassette. Then, everyone compared stories.

"There's one thing I'm not getting," General O'Neill said at last. "If Anat implanted Malek's host with a different Goa'uld, how is it he didn't tell her about the tunnels? She should have been waiting for you like a spider in a web."

Malek seemed to have considered this. "Aledar has been host to a symbiote for over fifty years. It is possible for a host with a strong enough mental acuity to exude some influence over his or her symbiote, and my guess is that the Goa'uld Anat provided was probably quite young. I can think of no seasoned Goa'uld who would embrace the idea of taking a former Tok'ra host for their own, however strong the inducement."

"There's another thing that might be working in our favor, General," Sarah added.

He raised his eyebrows. "Doctor?"

She looked around the table, nervously. "As you know, I've been doing my best the past few days to recall, as much as I am able, Osiris's memories of Anat. It's been difficult, but I get the sense she was not exactly what you'd call the sharpest tack in the barrel. For a Goa'uld she was more than usually reckless and sloppy. Before her success with her brainwashing technology, her attempts to reach system lord status were considered quite an entertaining subject for jokes among the other Goa'uld."

Jack leaned forward. "An absentminded professor Goa'uld? How did we get so lucky?"

Sarah smiled. "She believes as soon as her technology is perfected, any oversights she might have made will be irrelevant in light of her single, superior advantage."

"A foolish assumption," said Teal'c. "Based upon what Amelia Kinsey has told us, Ba'al is no doubt the true master of Anat's advantage."

Larassette nodded firmly. "He's in firm position to seize it as soon as ever he desires."

"Through my father," Amelia said quietly from the other side of Malek.

The female Tok'ra looked over at her and nodded. "I am surprised it has taken him so long to strike. Even with the technology unperfected, Ba'al would still have much to gain from its use."

"Do you think he's just waiting to see how things play out?" asked Colonel Reynolds. "Maybe he thinks Colonel Carter can fix it."

Jack shook his head. "Ba'al knows Colonel Carter was once a host, something Anat obviously _doesn't_. Which brings us to our other advantage: If what Doctor Gardner has remembered is accurate, then Colonel Carter is our wild card. If we can maneuver things right, she'll probably be in a great position to help us. I want plans, contingency plans and contingency plans of the contingency plans. We're going to get our people out and home this time." He looked around the table. "_All_ of them."

Amelia raised a hesitant hand. "General?" Jack glanced at her and she asked, "Does that include my father?"

A strange kind of pain passed through the General's eyes as he looked back at the girl, a deep, unfathomable sadness. "Of course it does, Amelia." He sighed. "So. Suggestions?"

"We will not be able to infiltrate Bubastis by means of the Stargate," said Malek. "If it was too well-guarded before, it will be doubly so by now. We must reach the planet by ship."

Sarah turned to gauge Jack's reaction to this suggestion. He was uncharacteristically subdued, a testament to how deeply focused he was.

"It is a three days' journey by starship," Teal'c pointed out.

"Two and a half if we push the engines really hard," Jack said. He ran his hands through his hair, still frowning. "The point is, we can't afford to wait that long. You can bet our friend Anat isn't just going to sit there and wait for us to show up. I think Jonas and Amelia have probably forced her to tip her hand."

Now Malek and Larassette exchanged pointed, knowing looks. Malek nodded slightly and Larassette addressed the general. "We have access to an al'kesh," she said. "It's hidden on a system only half a day's journey from Bubastis."

Jack threw them both a scowl. "Funny how often you guys have ships stashed away at times when it's convenient for you."

Malek was nonplussed. "If your amusement makes the vessel undesirable to you, General—"

"No, no," Jack interrupted. "We'll take it. Thanks," he added with a mumble. He glanced down at his reports. "Well, that cuts down on the number of possible personnel, but I get the distinct feeling speed is more critical here than numbers. Jonas—" he looked up, "—um, and Malek, I'm going to need you to come along. I know those secret tunnels are probably no good to us anymore, but we could still benefit from your knowledge of the fortress layout. I want Teal'c and SGs three and twelve to come along, as well."

"General," Sarah spoke up, "if you think it would be helpful, I'd be willing to come. I might remember something useful once I'm there, and I'd like the opportunity to contribute."

He shook his head. "Thank you, Doctor Gardner, but those memories are pretty patchy and you always need time to stop and figure them out. I don't think we'll have that luxury this time." He glanced over at her and then at Larassette. "But if you really want to help, I have a different idea."

* * *

The next few hours were a frenzy of activity. Malek's expertise was needed on many fronts, so Jonas was mostly left to observe through his own eyes the plans for the rescue. First there were battle plans to draw up, which meant making passable representations of the basic layout of the fortress for the benefit of General O'Neill's men.

After that, Malek's was called to the science labs. Besides being a commander, he was also an accomplished scientist, specializing in biochemistry. Together, he and Larassette worked hard for nearly three hours preparing a chemical inhibitor designed to overcome and subdue a symbiote and host instantaneously.

"What sort of delivery system will we be using?" Larassette asked once they finally implemented the necessary chemical reaction.

"Your tipped ring should be sufficient," Malek told her. "As a security officer, no one will think twice of its presence among your gear."

"Unless they prick themselves with it," Larassette pointed out wryly.

This made Jonas want to laugh. To his surprise, Malek smiled slightly. "Then be careful that they don't. I have procured another for Doctor Gardner."

Larassette and Doctor Gardner would be returning to the Tok'ra. The plan was to feign ignorance of the imposter Malek's true identity long enough to get close to him. This accomplished, it would be a simple matter to inoculate him with the compound. The tranquilizer, as it effectively was, was fast-acting enough to prevent the Goa'uld from killing Aledar before he could be safely separated from his uninvited guest. Both Malek and Larassette felt reasonably assured of the success of this plan.

"Commander, I hope you do not disapprove of the choices I have made since the attack," Larassette said as they worked. Malek looked over at her and she continued. She seemed nervous. "Since my discovery of Delek's betrayal I have found it a very difficult thing to trust."

Malek considered his words carefully before he replied. Jonas could practically hear the thoughts tumbling one over the other. "Mistrust is the oldest enemy of the Tok'ra," he said at last. "You did well to be cautious. But I know it must have been difficult for you, working without input from your own kind."

She nodded. "I felt an overwhelming sense of relief when you returned. But the experience has been a good one. I have a new appreciation for the Tau'ri and the Jaffa. And myself," she added thoughtfully.

"We must begin preparations for another dose of the compound," Malek said at last, not quite sure what sort of comment was an appropriate response to this moment of introspection.

"Why?"

"General O'Neill intends to try a similar means of capturing Amelia's father," Malek said slowly as he carefully lifted a vial for inspection. Here he pressed his lips together and Jonas bore the brunt of a sudden flare of rage from the Tok'ra. Malek had his own private opinion on the matter of rescuing Kinsey. It was very difficult for Jonas not to buy into the strong hatred, especially not after he'd shared in Malek's memories of the torture Amelia had suffered at Kinsey's hands aboard the ha'tak.

He had barely seen Amelia all day. After the briefing, during which she'd said very little, Amelia had been given quarters and had collapsed in a much-deserved sleep. Jonas, of course, had been preoccupied ever since then, but she was always in the back of his thoughts.

There was no doubt in his mind now that everything they'd shared together two years ago was still alive, a healthy blaze merely asleep beneath a few trifling embers. Even Malek's presence had ceased to be confusing. At some point along the line, Jonas's rival had quietly admitted defeat. His piercing jealousy had lessened to a resigned sadness, and oddly enough, he seemed to take comfort in not-so-subtle efforts to encourage Jonas's line of thought.

That line of thought both thrilled and terrified him, but any vestiges of hesitation on the matter were becoming utterly eclipsed by one, all-encompassing reality: He didn't want to live without her anymore.

When they had finally made enough preparations to General O'Neill's satisfaction, the teams were given a one hour deadline before embarkation. Doctor Brightman expressed a brief concern that Jonas was not sufficiently rested to undergo such a dangerous mission, but her concerns were dismissed. Jonas had Malek, which equaled a couple dozen cups of coffee for stamina. He assured her that he would rest during their precious period aboard the al'kesh. Then he took the elevator to level twenty-five.

Amelia's Secret Service agents were standing on either side. They'd arrived rather abruptly in the infirmary after Amelia and Jonas had first returned from their stopover on Langara, taking both Jonas and Amelia by surprise and causing Jack to roll his eyes rather violently. But, as Jack had explained to Jonas, they were nothing short of religiously devoted to their jobs. They also seemed to take it as a black mark against them that Amelia's adventure had befallen her in the first place.

Jonas was accustomed to guards at every turn at the SGC, so two of them in slightly different trappings did little to deter him. He knocked on the door. He hoped she wasn't still asleep, but he couldn't be sure. Still, at this point it didn't matter.

To his relief, the door opened after only a few brief moments, as long as it would take for someone to walk across the room. Amelia was wearing gray pajamas and a thin robe. Her hair was pulled into a messy knot of curls at the back of her neck. She smiled when she saw him, and his stomach jerked with a sudden onslaught of nerves.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi. Can I come in?"

Amelia stepped aside and he brushed past her into the room, where he immediately began fidgeting while she closed the door. "Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"I did, thank you. What did I miss?"

"We've got the rescue ops planned as best we can. We're leaving within the hour. Both teams."

Amelia sighed and sat on the bed. "I wish there was something I could do to help. But I know it would be stupid and dangerous for me to tag along."

"How does your hand feel?" he asked, his eyes falling on her bandaged fingers.

She picked up her hand to scrutinize it. "Better," she said. "Stiff, though. Doctor Brightman says I probably won't have the mobility I'm used to for several weeks."

"So, no violin until then?"

She shook her head and made a resigned face. "No violin. Which I guess kind of works out. I don't even have one anymore. It seems Lieutenant Casserman was obliged to leave the instrument on Bilkah while he focused on making it through the stargate alive." She looked up at Jonas, eyes twinkling. "Unless we want to mount a third rescue mission?"

He laughed. "As much as Jack likes you, somehow I don't think he's going to go for that."

"I think you're right."

"But it doesn't matter. You still have a violin. Don't you remember?"

Her eyes softened. "Of course I remember. How could I forget? How is it doing?"

"Quite well. Even survived Anubis's attack on Kelowna City. Which, I'm here to tell you, is every bit as impressive as it sounds."

She grinned. "You'll have to tell me about that sometime."

He finally ceased his nervous pacing and sat down on the bed beside her, looking long and steadily into her eyes. "Maybe I will," he said softly. "But you can have the violin back, if you want it. On one condition."

Amelia seemed to be aware something serious was afoot. There was no trace of the coquette in her voice as she replied. "And what's that?"

He tightened a grip on his courage and plunged. "Marry me."

Her eyes widened in unmistakable surprise. "Marry you?" she repeated numbly. "Jonas—"

"I don't care where or when or how," he rushed on. "I don't know where we'll live or even how we'll work it out yet, but all you need to say is yes and I promise we'll find a way. Amelia, please. I love you." He leaned in close. "Please," he urged again. He put his hand behind her neck and kissed her softly.

Amelia's raised her hand and rested her fingertips against his cheek, her thumb brushed under his jaw; her whole hand was perched near his face like a skittish bird that lingered there willingly, yet was ready to flee. Almost unconsciously, he brought his other hand up to cover hers, to keep her from flying away. Their fingers threaded together and he deepened the kiss, a gentle but persistent form of persuasion. Still, she hesitated. He pulled away.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"N—nothing, exactly," she stammered. She gave a quavering smile and touched his lips, almost sadly. "It's just, you took me by surprise. I hadn't expected—" She lowered her hand again, frustrated, and looked into his eyes. "I want to marry you, Jonas. I really do. I just— I think I need some time. To try and sort through it. My mind is going about a thousand directions at once."

He laughed awkwardly. "Mine too."

She gave a shaky breath. "Give me a couple of days?"

Trying his best to hide his flare of selfish disappointment, Jonas nodded. Together, they stood to their feet. "In the meantime," he said, "we've got a rescue to pull off."

She nodded, her face worried. Then she pulled him into a tight hug. "Just come back safely," she said. "Both of you."

"We will," he said. "I've got to go get dressed." Reluctantly, he broke away from her and turned toward the door. Just as he reached for the handle, Amelia called his name.

He turned, and she smiled. A smile that was only for him, subdued, but heartfelt. "I do love you," she said. "Just so you know."

It was enough for now.

* * *

**A/N**: Nothing much to say, I guess. Busy preparing my final presentation for Spanish Conversation 301 on the guitarrist Andrés Segovia.


	14. Suspense

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN** - _Suspense_

* * *

Sarah should have known how difficult it would be for her to be on a Tok'ra base. Considering how expert Osiris had been at hating the universe in general, there was something to be said about the fact that he had hated the Tok'ra the most. The very walls seemed to agitate the remnants of the Goa'uld in her subconscious.

With a shiver and a scowl, Sarah tightened her hands around the straps of her knapsack and willed the tightness of her fingers to distract her from her internal discomfort. She'd gotten accustomed to Larassette's presence. She could get over this too.

Her thoughts turned to a different cause to be nervous. As good as the idea had sounded in the briefing room, now that she was here Sarah couldn't help but wonder if her presence on this mission wouldn't raise the suspicion of their quarry. Without being able to divulge to the Tok'ra leadership the true reason for Sarah's presence here, the justification Larassette offered them seemed weak and arbitrary.

As Larassette had explained to Per'sus before they'd been allowed to come through the Stargate, the former host of Osiris was in a more sound frame of mind than when she'd first been freed, and wished to show her gratitude to her liberators by assisting Larassette with her investigation. To Sarah's surprise, they had bought it, though not exactly with open arms.

Sarah didn't know what planet she and Larassette had come to. For security purposes, she'd been requested by Larassette to stand in front of the DHD and keep her eyes closed while the Stargate was activated, so as not to memorize the address. It was one of the conditions the Tok'ra had stipulated when they agreed to let Sarah come. She wondered if she should have tried to peek anyway, but the thought of their mission made her decide to play it straight. They were here to save an innocent man from a horrific existence, not exacerbate tensions between the Tok'ra and the Tau'ri.

She followed Larassette and their escort down the tunnels of the Tok'ra base until they reached their destination – a Tok'ra version of the SGC's briefing room, complete with the oblong table and stiff postures all around. The comparison amused her, and she smiled slightly.

The councilors assembled there rose to their feet in greeting. Larassette stopped, stiffened, and lowered her head briefly. "Councilors," she greeted. It was not unlike a salute.

"Welcome home, Larassette," said the councilor at the head of the table, not unkindly. He turned his eyes to Sarah expectantly.

Larassette took the cue. "May I present Sarah Gardner of the Tau'ri?"

Pleasantries were exchanged all around. The leader was presented as Supreme Councilor Per'sus, who proceeded to introduce all the others. When he introduced Commander 'Malek', Sarah did her best not to react. It was hard not to stare, to try and find some kind of clue or sign of who was really sitting among them. If the Goa'uld was worth anything at all, he would suspect them. They couldn't be certain yet whether Anat would have warned her lackey of Malek's escape from custody, but Jack, Larassette, and Sarah had all agreed that for the purposes of their mission, they were going to presume she did.

Sarah sat in silence as Larassette made her report to her superiors. There was quite a lot of cross-examination. The Tok'ra wanted a full account and detailed justification for Larassette's long, independent absence. Sarah couldn't blame them. For the most part, Larassette conveyed the truth to the council, including the security concerns which led her to make her radical decision, her discovery of Delek's betrayal, the experiences on Dornalis, and the information they'd pieced together about Anat. The only thing she left out was the return of Malek to Earth.

When she finished, she looked at the imposter. "I would be interested to know how you eluded capture, Commander," she said. "I was most relieved to find you here. I thought you had perished."

"I did not elude capture," he said. "But I managed to escape, with the help of my host's memories. The fortress where I was taken is on his former homeworld."

So he was going to mostly tell the truth as well. Smart. Sarah strengthened her resolve not to inadvertently give herself away.

"Tell me," he added. "Were the Tau'ri successful in any of their rescue endeavors? SG-1? Jonas Quinn? Amelia Kinsey?"

Larassette glanced at Sarah, who shook her head sadly. "Not yet. We've not heard anything." She looked at Per'sus. "With your permission, Supreme Councilor, I would like to relay the information provided by Commander Malek back to General O'Neill. It will be of great help to him to know where to look for them." Inwardly, she scowled. It would have been easier if the Goa'uld had lied about the location of Malek's captivity. Now Anat would no for sure to expect a rescue attempt. On the other hand, her expectations of that were already pretty high. Sarah supposed in the end it didn't worsen their chances all that much. It was vital that the false Malek be convinced Sarah and Larassette had not been contacted by Jonas.

Larassette finished her report, and expressed her desire that Sarah help her begin working on a way to counter the effects of Anat's brainwashing technology. The more Sarah listened, the more impressed she was with the Tok'ra woman's quick wits and considerable skill as an actress. She practically had Sarah convinced of the wisdom of the proposed scheme. Granted, the Tok'ra didn't know that Sarah was about as clueless about science as General O'Neill.

At last it was settled. Sarah was shown to her quarters, and a little while later she was visited by Larassette, who gave her the ring she was to use as soon as opportunity presented itself, handing it over with delicate precision.

Now all they had to do was wait.

* * *

The first day alone at Stargate Command, Amelia almost went crazy. Mental exhaustion finally caught up with the physical, and her nights were filled with patchy nightmares of her torture at the hands of the Goa'uld. On occasion she would wake up suddenly, frightened and sweating, rattled and uneasy. This made it difficult to go back to sleep, no matter how tired she was. Worry for the rescue team didn't help matters. And then there was Jonas's proposal to deal with.

What should have made an excellent distraction from her fears only served to make them worse. The trouble was that Amelia ordinarily worked through such problems by talking them over with someone she trusted, preferably Lydia. But she couldn't very well talk to her sister about whether or not she should marry an alien who lived on the other side of the galaxy. The nondisclosure agreement was rather prominently blocking that avenue. The only other person at Stargate Command Amelia would have felt comfortable discussing it with was General O'Neill. Unfortunately, he wasn't here.

She didn't even have her violin to keep her calm.

She took to wandering the corridor aimlessly, her arms crossed, her face undoubtedly reflecting all of her frustration, trying to hack her way through her internal debate without someone else's help.

The problem was not that she didn't want to marry Jonas. She hadn't been lying to him about that. In fact, a 'yes' had almost spilled off of her lips on the spot, but then her mind had frozen, jumping ahead to all the ramifications.

Logistically, there were only two possible avenues if she and Jonas got married. Either she was going to have to give up her home or he would. The more she mulled between the two, the more equally evil they seemed. Amelia loved her life. She loved her sister, she loved her livelihood. She'd always been able to make happiness for herself, even when she thought she'd never be able to see Jonas again. The thought of leaving all she'd ever known, of starting over on a new world surrounded by strange people and customs, where one galactic incident could cut her irrevocably off from her homeworld and her family, frankly made her stomach churn a little.

But Colonel Carter had told Amelia, to some extent, the events that had surrounded Jonas's pardon and return to Kelowna. He was needed there, needed to help three mistrustful, trigger-happy peoples from tearing each other apart. Amelia knew Jonas very well. She knew that if she asked, he would leave Kelowna and come back to Earth for her sake. She knew how happy he had been here. But she also knew how deep his loyalty to his people truly ran. The thought of asking him to divide his heart that way was even more distasteful than the thought of her leaving home.

All these thoughts and more spilled over and over one another in a ceaseless cycle in her mind. For the next two days Amelia worried tracks in the carpet of her room, pacing and pondering, trapped by her own restless musing.

* * *

The small strike force consisting of SG-3, SG-10, Teal'c, General O'Neill, and Jonas arrived in the fortress of Bubastis with flair. The first phase of their plan consisted of getting captured on purpose. As Colonel O'Neill pointed out, it was the only plan that ever actually followed itself through on the first step. Of course, Jonas hadn't been able to resist pointing out what had happened the last time. They could only hope that this time they wouldn't need the help of Mr. Felger and Mr. Coombs to extricate themselves.

"Okay," said Jack as they had all gathered around the ring platform. "Teal'c, Jonas, and I will go down first. Reynolds, you and your boys will come next, and SG-10 after that. No dilly-dallying, and remember, make it look convincing."

A few minutes later, they had all been swept down into the central ring platform in the heart of the fortress, which was of course heavily guarded by Jaffa. The ensuing skirmish was its own brand of difficult. They were trying to incapacitate rather than kill their Jaffa opponents, so while some P-90s got fired for effect, it was mostly zats that did the real work.

There was only so much that a strike force against such overwhelming odds could reasonably be expected to accomplish, however. They made a few 'attempts' to break through the ranks of the Jaffa and into the corridors beyond, but soon the room and the hallways around it were so choked with soldiers that Colonel O'Neill finally raised his hands in surrender. As ordered, Teal'c and a couple members of SG-10 carried the pantomime a little further, but they too were finally subdued.

Jonas had hoped they'd be taken directly to the throne room, but no such luck. They were taken to the dungeons instead. Truly, things were coming full circle. It felt as though he'd never left. At least this time Amelia wasn't in danger.

At the thought of her, Jonas gritted his back teeth together in an effort to shake it. He never used to grit his teeth; Malek told him it was a tendency of the host prior to Aledar. Whatever might help him keep every waking thought off of Amelia, though, would be welcome to Jonas. It had been hard enough spending one and a half days aboard the al'kesh with nothing to do _but_ think about her. More to the point, her non-acceptance of his marriage proposal.

Jonas had tried very hard, in the time since then, to keep sympathetic to her, especially given how sudden such a life-altering question must have seemed, but he couldn't help but think this mission would have been a degree or two less stressful for him if she'd left him with some kind of assurance either way.

They were taken to the same dungeon that had been home to Jonas and Sam for so long. He couldn't believe it had only been three days ago that he had Amelia had successfully escaped. Further down the corridor, Jonas noticed with some satisfaction the gaping blast radius that signified the explosion he'd created to block the Jaffa in their escape. The rubble had been cleared away, but the damage was painfully obvious. The area was also heavily guarded by at least twelve Jaffa, and to Jonas's annoyance, they didn't look like they would be going anywhere.

On the bright side, though, as they were herded unceremoniously into the familiar cell, they found they were not alone. Daniel was climbing to his feet in amazement.

"Jack?" he asked. He looked around at the rest of them. "What are you all doing here?"

"Gee, you're welcome for trying to rescue your butt, Daniel," Jack replied, scowling as the cell door shut, almost clipping off his heels.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks, but did you _intend_ on getting captured?" Daniel asked.

Jonas had a really hard time not laughing.

* * *

Sarah and Larassette had been on the base for two days and Sarah was beginning to get frustrated. Larassette had assured her that the Goa'uld inside Aledar was probably young and inexperienced. Sarah wasn't so convinced. Whoever he was, whatever his age, it was clear that he was smart. And that he was also suspicious of them.

It was maddening, really. All they had to do was stick him with a pin. But he never went anywhere alone. He never came near them, and if he was forced to be in the same room with them, he always made sure he was in a position to keep his eyes on both of them, with plenty of warm bodies and several feet of space in between. Sarah was half-tempted just to go back to Earth and come back with a dart gun. That would be poetic, wouldn't it? The bane of Osiris used at the hands of her host to take down another Goa'uld?

On the other hand, she reminded herself, it had been less than two days. The time felt interminable, but in the grand scheme of things, it was a drop in the bucket.

After the briefing, the first thing Larassette had done was dump Sarah at a workstation with thousands of data files that the Tok'ra had acquired in their travels and their missions, either from their network of spies or from their own observations. All of them had to do with the Ancient language, something precious few Tok'ra had any experience with. It would probably have taken Daniel a couple of weeks to get through it all. It would take Sarah months. Not that she planned on being around that long, but the material point was that she could pretty much settle in for a longer haul than originally planned if need be. Sarah was determined not to let that happen, though. It wasn't fair to Aledar.

Last night she had found herself repeating his name over and over in her mind as she tried to fall asleep, trying to imagine the hell he must be going through right now, helplessly watching as his uninvited guest used his most intimate secrets and relationships against him, trying to tear apart his family. These thoughts brought back memories she hadn't thought of in a long time. Doctor Jordan's death at her hands-- he hadn't been the only one, but he had been the first, and the most painful, even after everything. She'd almost killed Stephen too. If Osiris hadn't heard the distant sounds of Daniel and his friends approaching the temple, then Stephen too would have died, alone and confused by his seeming friend and colleague's betrayal. She'd been forbidden by the US government to visit him. There were too many questions that were too difficult to answer.

So even though she had never met Malek's host, her sense of kinship with him and her sense of determination grew with each passing hour. She could not allow the tragic story to be repeated. Her impatience grew as the day wore on. Late in the evening she and Larassette were alone together in the lab that Larassette shared with one or two of the other Tok'ra scientists. It was the first time they had been alone since their arrival, so Sarah decided to take advantage.

She stepped up to where Larassette was working with some kind of microscope device. Careful to keep her voice low, so as not to carry out into the corridor beyond, Sarah said, "I don't think we should wait any longer."

Larassette's face was pressed against the eyepiece, but her shoulders froze at Sarah's words. She pulled away slowly. "It's too great a risk," she said certainly. "We only have one chance to catch him off guard. One element of surprise." She shook her head.

"And how long is it going to take?" Sarah asked impatiently. "If all is going according to schedule, then General O'Neill and Commander Malek are already making their rescue attempt of the rest of SG-1, if they haven't already succeeded or failed. One way or another, it can't be too much longer before our mole realizes that our story has one giant, gaping hole in it. We may lose our element of surprise if we don't try to make it for ourselves."

Larassette took a deep, frustrated breath and cocked her head. "What do you have in mind?" she asked.

"You said Malek was a high-ranking scientist in addition to being part of the military."

"Not unlike your Colonel Carter," said Larassette, nodding.

"Okay, so why hasn't he been attending to his scientific duties?" Sarah asked.

"I believe you and I both know the answer to that," Larassette pointed out wryly.

"Yes, you and I know that he has cause to avoid us, but the others don't know. Could you--" Sarah tapped an agitated finger on the countertop. "Could you, I don't know, request some kind of review of your work, or present a summary of a project he would need to oversee or something?"

The Tok'ra frowned. "I'm primarily a security officer. I'm only working here in the science lab due to my singular experience with the brainwashing device. Very soon my input will no longer be required, and I certainly would not be the one to present the Commander with a progress report."

Sarah was tempted to tell Larassette that she was taking the whole devil's advocate role a little too seriously, but she figured the expression would be utterly lost on the other woman anyway, so she held her tongue. Instead she turned around and leaned against the counter in frustration. She started chewing on the side of her fingernail before she jerked her hand away again, willing herself not to pick up that habit again. "This cannot be that difficult," she said aloud.

Briefly, her mind ran through the briefing from the day before, of the two almost-but-not-quite-true versions that they and the false Malek had respectively shared about the events on Bubastis. "I think I might have an idea," she said.

* * *

Anat's Jaffa did not leave nor take their eyes off the prisoners for a single second the entire night. Unfortunately, this meant that the strike team was not able to tell Daniel any of the specifics of their plan. It was a possibility they had discussed and prepared for, but watching Daniel fiddle with his glasses and listening to him ramble on in his ignorance made Jonas feel a little bit sorry for him. On the other hand, he supposed it led credibility to their cover story. Jack let Daniel chatter away for a long time before he ordered everyone to try and get some sleep. Jonas suspected Jack was enjoying himself.

Through Daniel, they were able to confirm that Sam was now 'working' with Anat to perfect the brainwashing device. It was as they'd predicted. Now all they really needed was for Sarah's information about the device not affecting former hosts to be true. It was possible that Anat had corrected that particular glitch, but Sarah had said she doubted it, mostly because then it remained a weapon that couldn't be turned on its mistress. Malek had concurred with Sarah's assessment.

In any case, if their first plan fell through, they had a backup. _Prometheus_ had been deployed and was on its way, ready to beam them aboard if necessary when it arrived. The Jaffa had stripped them all of their transmitting devices, but those had been mere decoys. Each member of the team was now sporting a subcutaneous version of the transmitter, except Daniel and Sam, of course, but the scientists assured them that they need only get within close proximity of anyone or anything they wanted to transport in order to bring it along.

After a few chilly hours of sleep, everyone was awake again and Jack was attempting to wrangle any additional information out of Daniel that he hadn't gotten in his first attempt. Daniel kept looking over at their Jaffa guards as if trying to remind Jack they were there.

"How often have you seen Carter since she got zapped?"

"Oh. Well, um, they brought her back here three or four times; I guess Anat still didn't completely trust her, but I haven't seen her for two days." Daniel frowned. "The last time she was here, she slapped me." He reached up to rub his cheek as if in memory. "I was trying to see if maybe there was any way to reach her through the brainwashing, but I guess not." He sighed heavily.

"That happened to me once," said Jonas helpfully. "Only in that case it was Sam pretending to be a Goa'uld. Back on Earth." He looked between the other two men. "Neither of you were there, though."

Jack's eyes widened in slight warning at Jonas's words, but he relaxed again when he seemed to realize Jonas hadn't actually said anything incriminating. Daniel appeared to have noticed something pass between them, though, for his eyes narrowed and his expression became inquisitive, but a moment later he closed the expression and pressed his lips together with deliberation.

From far down the dungeon corridor, the resounding clang of the heavy front door being opened carried down to the prisoners. "Show time," Jack muttered, and began to get to his feet. Everyone else followed his lead. By the time their visitor arrived, they were all standing to face him.

"Well, if it isn't Colonel O'Neill himself," sneered Kinsey, eyeing Jack up and down with manic delight.

"General," Jack corrected him. "It's _General_ O'Neill now, Kinsey, remember? Snake in your head got you mixed up a little?"

The Goa'uld of Kinsey merely held his sneering stare a moment longer, before jerking his head at the Jaffa nearest the door. "Bring them. Our goddess wishes a word." They were all hauled out of the cell and prodded into motion.

"I hope she doesn't expect us to make a burnt offering or anything," Jack called ahead to Kinsey as they headed down the corridor after him. "I plum forgot to bring a sheep with me. Or a bull, or a--" he looked at Daniel for help. "Did she have a preference?"

Daniel shrugged. "She pretty much shows up across the board as the goddess of primal, violent behavior, so you're probably good with most anything. Of course, there was a story in which she gave birth to a son fathered by Ba'al who was a young bull, so--"

"Wait, Ba'al? Or the son?"

"What?"

"Which one was the young bull?"

"Oh, um…the son. In any case--"

"You know what? Forget I asked."

The two men fell silent and they proceeded after their captors out of the dungeons and through the opulent corridors of the palace toward the throne room. Jonas couldn't help but note how thoroughly they were surrounded by Jaffa the entire way.

Though he and Amelia had spied on the throne room from behind the lattice work, Jonas hadn't actually been inside it since he and Sam had first been captured. It too was filled with Jaffa, all standing at perfect rigid attention. They didn't move as the strike team and its escort moved past them toward the dais. Waiting for them there was Anat, sitting razor straight upon her throne and eyeing them all with the greed of a miser ogling his hoard. Standing behind her were various minor Goa'uld flunkies and beside her was Sam, who like the Jaffa stood at attention. Her expression as she looked over her teammates was impassive.

They reached the dais. Predictably, as soon as the Jaffa brought them to a halt, they were forced rather painfully down on their knees. Jonas, who was on the side nearer to Sam, tried to catch her eye, hoping to convey something of their intentions, though he wasn't sure how.

Anat got to her feet and surveyed them all satisfactorily. "O'Neill," she said slowly, in a voice like a child counting pieces of candy. Her eyes shifted to Teal'c and her smirk deepened by a millimeter. "The shol'va." Finally she looked at Jonas, "And the elusive Commander Malek, is it not? I must say, that was a clever way to hide. You gave me a great gift in your former host. For that I should thank you."

She stepped back, all the while maintaining her gloating posture. "You all come to me in the greatest of moments. With the help of your comrade," she gestured to Sam, "I have, at last, secured the final means of assuring my dominance over the System Lords and all their territories."

"Wow, that's ambitious," Jack observed. "You know, your buddy Anubis was the last one to try to bite off that much. I guess you probably heard what happened to him? We're not just going to sit back and let you succeed where he failed."

Anat smiled down at him. "On the contrary," she purred, "I will not only succeed, but you will serve me in this endeavor with all of your heart."

"Oh, I don't think so."

"Then observe," Anat gloated one last time. As she raised her hand, Jonas took note of the hand device she wore-- a new design he'd never seen before. He looked over and caught Jack's eye. The older man was unable to resist a shrug and a slight smirk before the room was filled with blinding white light.

* * *

**A/N: **Jack loves going offworld. ;-)

I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't have changed the title to this story, since I haven't gotten any feedback since. LOL

In any case, for those of you who are still reading, you'll be pleased to know the fic is now 100 finished, and will probably be completely posted within the course of the next two weeks or so. :-)

Cheers!

Saché


	15. Intimidation Factor

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN** - _Intimidation Factor_

* * *

Larassette accompanied Sarah to council chamber, but only Sarah went inside. Larassette waited, out of sight but not out of earshot. Sarah's heart was pounding.

Every face in the room was surprised to see her. Fortunately, only a handful of council members were actually present. She couldn't remember all of their names, but she recognized Persus and Kleyon. She also recognized her quarry, of course.

"Doctor Gardner," greeted Councilor Kleyon, standing to her feet.

The imposter Malek's eyes narrowed as he followed suit. "You are without your escort," he observed. Sarah's heart beat faster.

_This is not that complicated_, she reminded herself sternly. She was acutely aware of the poisoned ring on her hand. Trying to keep her hand from drawing attention without pricking herself was a surprisingly tricky business. _One prick, that's it._

"Councilors," she greeted, deciding to ignore the comment about her escort. She wasn't actually supposed to go anywhere alone. "Forgive me for disturbing you, but I wondered if you had received any communications from Stargate Command."

Persus frowned. "We were expecting no communiqués on your behalf," he said.

"I was told I was to report in every two days," she said, feigning confusion.

Kleyon and Persus exchanged looks, and the imposter narrowed his eyes further. "We were not informed," said Kleyon. "With your permission, Supreme Councilor?" she asked.

Persus began to nod his head, but Sarah took a halting step forward. "I was wondering--" she began, glancing between them, "--if Commander Malek might be willing to accompany me. I have a question of a personal nature to ask him regarding his recent capture. As you know, Doctor Jackson was a very dear friend of mine. It--that is, my question-- has to do with him."

The insufferable, stoic silence of the Tok'ra seemed to stretch interminably. "Very well," said Persus. "Commander?"

The Goa'uld did not reply but walked toward Sarah in a wordless acknowledgement of his superior. He seemed coiled and terse, utterly suspicious as he drew near her.

"Thank you, Supreme Councilor," Sarah said. She turned and neared the door, and turned back expectantly, waiting on her quarry to approach her. He would have no choice but to get near enough. Her heart sped up even further.

Sarah supposed that if she had been one of the gunslingers in those old films about the American west, she would have been the gentleman lying dead in the street at the end of the movie. As the imposter neared her, he caught her eye in the exact instant she made her move. Sarah tried to dart forward with her left hand to strike him in the face, the shoulder, the arm, anywhere she could make contact. Somehow, he had read her intensions in her eyes, for his own hand came up even faster. He seized her by the wrist and they were deadlocked.

Sarah winced as her arm was wrested painfully around. The Goa'uld snarled slightly and she struggled to keep him from overpowering her. She could hear nothing of the surprise and exclamations of the other two Tok'ra who looked on. She looked into his eyes, burning with hatred and his lips, curled with menace and her eyes narrowed. Not his eyes, not his face.

Something snapped inside of her, a bitter rage, and she found herself drawing deliberately upon a part of herself she'd thought to shut out forever. "You fool," she spat at him, "You think you will ever achieve glory among the Goa'uld? I was the terror of the Nile Delta for a thousand years strong. I was a System Lord when the queen who sired you had not even taken her first host. My memory will endure for thousands of years to come and no one even knows your name."

The authority in Sarah's voice frightened her, but it elicited the desired effect. The Goa'uld's eyes widened in hesitation and uncertainty, and also -- she could hardly believe it-- fear.

As such, he didn't notice when Larassette snuck up behind him and pierced him from behind with her own dose of the poison.

The imposter slumped the floor and Sarah sprang back to prevent being knocked over. She shivered, but not with relief.

"Larassette! Doctor Gardner! Explain yourselves!" demanded Persus.

Sarah was still breathing heavily and looked at Larassette expectantly. The redhead stepped forward and gave a curt nod of her head. "Forgive us the deception, Supreme Councilor," she said, quite calmly. She looked down at the fallen mole with distaste. "We could not inform you without compromising ourselves. That is not Commander Malek. I would summon one of the geneticists to confirm my words as soon as possible. If he wakes, the host will be in danger."

* * *

Jonas was still holding his breath the moment after the sear of light faded from everyone's vision. This was the wild card, as they would say on Earth. The leap of faith. The audacity of their plan had hinged solely around the speculation that Sam had not been compromised, and so Jonas held his breath, utterly unsure of what to expect. So, it seemed, did everyone else in the room.

He caught Jack's eye. The general shook his head slightly. Wait and see.

Anat stepped forward, surveying her new captives in triumph. When Sam was no longer in the Goa'uld's line of sight, Jonas tried once again to catch the eye of his former teammate. This time she returned his look with the slightest of smirks and a small wink. Jonas resisted the urge to grin. It was going to work.

When Anat reached Jack and Teal'c, she stared down at them. "Bow before me," she demanded.

Jack blinked at her a few times, as if mildly surprised she was standing there. "Sorry?" he asked.

"I command you to bow before me," she repeated, this time making sure the weight of her will was clear to both men.

Jack looked over at Teal'c in confusion, and then back at Anat. "Well, first off, we're already on our knees, so you might want to be a little bit more precise, and secondly… no."

Anat snarled, and whirled around to glare at Sam. "What is wrong?" she demanded.

Sam merely widened her smirk for all to see and turned to the nearest Jaffa. "Give me your zat'ni'katel," she said calmly. To Jonas's amazement, the warrior complied. Jonas's surprise, however, paled in comparison with the shock and fury that blossomed on Anat's features as Sam raised the zat and pointed it straight at her face.

"Hey, Anat," Jack called. The Goa'uld turned to glare at him. "Didn't Kinsey ever tell you that Carter once had a Tok'ra symbiote? For the better part of two days, in fact. But it was a long time ago, and I don't think his memory is what it used to be. And oh, by the way, I used to be a Tok'ra too." He gave her a cheeky grin.

There was a moment of deathly quiet. Jonas could practically see the deductions marching across Anat's face. She looked at the hand device she was still wearing, she half-glanced back in the direction of Sam, and she looked up at the Jaffa still arrayed in their perfect lines. Her eyes narrowed with anger.

"_Pa'tak! Kree!!_" she cried. She raised the hand device and it flared, once again blinding everyone in the room. It was enough time for Anat to turn and flee. Jonas heard Sam fire the zat, but she must have missed, because when eyesight cleared, he caught a glimpse of Anat disappearing through the nearby back entrance to the throne room. There was no easy chance to pursue her, though, because filling the space between the door and where Jonas, Jack, and the others were standing were now a dozen Goa'uld lackeys, who were divided in their attempts to flee in the wake of their mistress, or stay and defend her escape as she had commanded in her final cry.

The members of SG-10 and several of the nearest Jaffa ran forward to meet the remaining Goa'uld. Jack and Jonas ran forward frantically and met Sam. "What happened, Carter?" Jack asked.

"I reprogrammed the device," she said.

"Yeah, I figured," Jack said impatiently. "_How_ exactly?"

"I couldn't reverse it," she said. "But I changed it a little bit. Instead of making the Jaffa loyal to Anat, I made them loyal to--" she hesitated, looking urgently around the room.

Jack gestured with impatience. "Yes, Carter, yes? Loyal to whom?"

"Well," she said apologetically, "to-- us. To the Tau'ri in general."

Jack blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Jack, what's going on?" asked Daniel. "Because I think these Jaffa are on the verge of a riot." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the battalions.

Jack looked at Sam. "Could we--?" he began.

She shook her head. "Sir, we can't. That is-- we shouldn't."

"Shouldn't what?" asked Daniel.

Sam looked between them sternly, and over at Teal'c, who like Jonas was listening with rapt attention. "We can't ask us these Jaffa to fight for us when their loyalty has been artificially imbued."

Teal'c stepped forward. "O'Neill," he said with insistence. "The Jaffa are yours to command. Speak the will of the Tau'ri and we will fight to the death to obey." He clamped his fist over his heart and fell to on knee. The Jaffa nearest him began to follow suit.

"See what I mean?" said Sam.

Jack was frowning. "Yes," he said. He scowled at Teal'c. "Stand up, Teal'c."

Teal'c sprang to his feet with graceful speed, an expression of dark, fierce determination on his face. Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh for crying out loud," he muttered.

"Sam, what the hell is going on?" asked Daniel. "Aren't you supposed to be--?"

"I'm not," she cut him off. "I'll explain later. Sir," she said, turning to Jack. "Right now we've got to stop Anat from escaping. She still has the device and she knows how to reprogram it. If she escapes she can start all of this over again."

"Meanwhile, the Jaffa outside are still loyal to her," Jonas pointed out.

"But the Jaffa outside don't know that their buddies are loyal to us now," Jack pointed out. He glanced at Daniel. "How come you're not acting all googly-eyed, anyway? You've never had a symbiote."

"I closed my eyes."

"Oh."

"Sir!"

At the sound of Colonel Reynolds' voice, the group turned. The expressions of the others mirrored what Jonas expected was showing on his face. SG-10, SG-3, and their Jaffa assistants had by now overcome seven of the Goa'uld who had not escaped and were holding them firmly hostage. One of them was Kinsey.

Jack's eyebrows were raised. "Um, good work, Colonel," he said.

"Thank you, sir!" Reynolds cried back with formal, radiant gratitude. Jack winced again.

"Now what?" Jack muttered to himself.

Jonas hadn't stopped staring at Kinsey, who was struggling vainly in the vice-like grip of two Jaffa. Inside him, Malek raged and Jonas gave him control.

"If you'll permit me, General," said Malek darkly. He didn't wait for Jack's permission, but stepped forward. When he reached Kinsey, he helped himself to the zat'ni'katel in the holster of one of the Jaffa and rested the tip between Kinsey's eyes.

"We have a need to capture your mistress," Malek said coolly. "If you would be so kind as to provide us with her most likely means of escape. Is her ha'tak in orbit?"

The Goa'uld Kinsey glared back. "She is not my mistress," he snarled.

"Yes, I know. You were working for Ba'al. But it does not matter, you can still answer the question."

"_Jek ne pal nok, Tok'ra!_," the Goa'uld spat.

Malek smirked. "Very well," he said. He pulled the zat a slight distance back from Kinsey's forehead and fired. Kinsey writhed in spasms of pain. When he stopped, Malek stepped closer. "Senator?" he asked.

Kinsey was breathing hard, but his eyes had lost the dark evil of the symbiote's presence, at least temporarily. "Yes," he grunted, clearly struggling to maintain control. "She'll go--" he said through short, harsh breaths, "for the landing platform. The ha'tak is not here right now, but she-- has five or six-- al'kesh at her disposal."

"Thank you," said Malek. He raised the zat again, but remembering Jack's promise to Amelia, Jonas screamed inside at him not to fire. For a very long moment, Malek stood with the weapon pointed, his disdain for both host and symbiote at war with his love for Amelia Kinsey. Finally, with great difficulty, he lowered the weapon, relinquished to Jonas control of his body, and disappeared into his own anger.

Jonas exhaled and looked at Amelia's father, who was still struggling to breathe. "Thank you," he said, repeating Malek's words with more sincerity.

Kinsey gave a stiff nod. "Mr. Quinn," he said. His eyes went distant for a moment, and he gave a bitter smile. "He intends to kill me," he said to Jonas. Each word was a struggle. "Please. Tell Amelia--I'm sor--sorr--" He was unable to finish his words. His eyes glazed over and the spark of life blew out. Malek had seen it dozens of times. The Goa'uld, when given the chance, relished in taking the last life at their disposal before they took their own.

Jonas gave a long sigh. He looked down at the zat still clenched in his hand, and then around the room. Everyone was watching him, and everything was disturbingly calm. He looked at Jack. "We need to get to the landing platform," he said. "As quickly as possible."

Jack nodded in understanding. Looking around, he noted that Anat's throne was just a few feet away, unmanned and forgotten. He trotted over to it and jumped up to address the group. "All right, people!" he called. "Here's what we're going to do."

* * *

Sarah was packing her bags when a shadow filled the doorway of her quarters. "Doctor Gardner?"

She looked up. "Commander," she said with a smile, addressing Aledar. "I wasn't expecting to see you so soon. Please, come in."

He glanced around. "I'm not a commander," he corrected her. "That's Malek."

She shrugged. "I guess it felt more polite, seeing as how we've not actually been introduced." She reached out a hand. "Doctor Sarah Gardner."

"Aledar of Laicha," he said simply, returning the handshake.

She gestured for him to sit on a nearby chair-- actually it was a nook built into the wall for the purpose of sitting down-- and he accepted. Sarah sat on the bed opposite. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Physically, there is no lasting damage from the Goa'uld's presence," he said. "I came to thank you for your help."

"It was my pleasure. Without the expertise of the Tok'ra in removing symbiotes I would be either dead or still slave to Osiris now. It was the least I could do."

He nodded, but said nothing. He seemed distant, yet he made no move to leave. It reminded Sarah, oddly enough, of Kasi's behavior in the mess three days ago, when she'd made her confession about killing the Tok'ra Delek. Tentatively, Sarah asked, "And how are you feeling apart from physically?" she asked.

He turned to regard her, and his expression seemed to find purchase at last. She recognized that haunted visage all too well and her heart swelled with renewed compassion. "I did not know," he confessed.

"Know?" she repeated.

"Over fifty years I have been host to Malek, and in all that time I never understood the thin and brittle line that the Tok'ra walk each day, to maintain equilibrium when in reality they have total and absolute advantage over the humans they inhabit. The Tok'ra came from the Goa'uld. Their instincts are not all that different. It would take shockingly little for that line to be compromised." He shuddered slightly.

"Are you afraid to become a host again?" Sarah asked.

He glanced at her. "Yes."

"You won't be host to Commander Malek anymore?" she asked. She had to confess, despite her sympathies, this turn of events would surprise her greatly.

Aledar stood slowly to his feet and stood to look out the doorway, pensive. "It has been a tempting thought," he admitted, "but no. I can't let one bad experience wipe away the fifty years of good trust Malek has earned as a Tok'ra. Anyway, it would not be fair to Jonas Quinn. He did not agree to an indefinite term as Malek's host." He turned to regard Sarah again. "But you were once host to Osiris. And I saw in the Council Chamber that part of him still resides within you."

It was Sarah's turn to shiver. "Always," she said sadly.

"How do you manage it?"

"Day by day," she said simply. "Moment by moment. As you will. And it does get easier."

He nodded. "Strangely, I think I will feel better once Malek and I have blended again. As unsettling as the Goa'uld's influence was, I feel even stranger being alone like this."

"You know," said Sarah thoughtfully, "this may sound strange too, but I think I know what you mean." She licked her lips, searching for words. "Not that I would ever want Osiris back, but he left a sort of Osiris-shaped hole in my existence that nothing else quite fits."

The corners of Aledar's mouth turned up in a small smile. "Exactly that," he said. He walked over and sat down on the bed beside her. "Many of the Tok'ra hosts were former hosts to the Goa'uld, did you know that?"

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "No, I didn't."

He nodded. "Through the years we have conquered several Goa'uld whose hosts, like yourself, are still young and strong enough to be saved. Some of them, as you said, have grown so accustomed to the blending that they can no longer cope as individuals. That is to say--" he amended "-- it is very difficult for them. The opportunity to be host to a Tok'ra presents itself as a beneficial solution for all of us."

Sarah nodded in understanding. "But only some of them," she said, smiling.

He chuckled. "A vast minority," he confessed. "Most embrace their liberation with open arms."

"How often do you make these little rescues of yours?" Sarah asked curiously.

"More and more since we became allies with the Tau'ri," he said. "But I think," he cocked his head, thinking, "the last host we freed independently of your people was the host to Qetesh."

Sarah grinned. "You know, Osiris rejoiced in almost all the deaths among his former enemies, but you probably wouldn't be surprised to know that he felt particular glee when he heard that Qetesh's death was among them."

"And he never even met her latest host," Aledar added, grinning.

Sarah's reply was cut short by the arrival of Larassette in the doorway. She nodded at Sarah and addressed both of them with a smile. "Aledar, Doctor Gardner," she said. "We've just received word from Commander Malek and Stargate Command. The mission was a success. The rest of SG-1 has been rescued and Anat's efforts have been thwarted. They've asked us to return to Earth as soon as possible."

* * *

**A/N**: Only two posts to go!! Man, this is all feeling so abrupt all of a sudden. LOL


	16. Whither Thou Goest

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN** - _Whither Thou Goest_

* * *

Two days after Aledar was rescued, he and Malek were reunited as host and symbiote at the SGC. There had been a small delay beforehand, a chance to give both host and symbiote a chance to recuperate from their respective adventures before proceeding with the blending. Or the blend-again, as General O'Neill had taken to calling it.

"I still can't believe you lot just walked right out of there," Sarah remarked, shaking her head. "I mean, I've been to Bubasatis-- sort of. It doesn't lend itself to easy escapes."

Her companion, Daniel, gave a noncommittal shrug. They were walking side by side through the corridors of the SGC, heading for the elevators. Sarah's bag was slung over her shoulder. "Well, we have you to thank for that," he said. "If it hadn't been for the information you were able to provide, we wouldn't have been able to take advantage of the situation." They reached the elevators, and Daniel pulled his hands out of his pockets long enough to swipe his access card.

"Somehow, I think you would have managed," she said as they stepped inside.

"I still can't believe they didn't tell me what was going on," he pouted slightly.

Sarah smiled. It wasn't difficult to picture Jack and Daniel in their respective roles of that particular comic farce. "Explain to me again, because I kind of missed this part in the briefing," she said as the elevator began moving, "how did you convince the jaffa outside the throne room that you were still prisoners? Wouldn't Anat have warned them?"

"There wasn't enough time. Her primary focus was getting to the al'kesh. I guess she didn't stop to chat. So we just pretended that our Jaffa were still loyal to her and that they were escorting us to the transports on her orders. Anat had to take a roundabout route, so we got there in plenty of time to stop her. More importantly, we were able to attain the brainwashing device and all of the research on it."

"And where are Anat and this research now?"

"The would-be System Lord is currently in a high security holding cell three floors up, but she'll be transferred soon. The research is being sent to Area 51." Daniel sighed. "I kind of wish we'd just get rid of it, myself."

The elevator reached its destination and together they disembarked. It was a few more feet to the security checkpoint where they would part ways. Sarah put her duffel on the floor and turned to Daniel expectantly. "Well," she said, "here I go, I guess."

"Back to Antarctica?"

"Absolutely. I'm weeks behind now, and Doctor Shaw told me yesterday that they think they're going to make a breakthrough accessing the eastern wing that we haven't been able to get to yet. I need to get back."

Daniel gave a small smile. "I'm so happy you've found a place for yourself there."

She took a deep breath and looked around. "So am I. And I'm grateful for all that you and Jack and General Hammond have done for me. But you know, this last couple of weeks has helped me realize that I'm not so afraid to be out in the world as I was at first. Who knows, you may see me around more often in the future."

"I certainly hope so. We could use your help. I'll miss you." He stepped forward and wrapped her in a tight hug. "Also, I keep forgetting to tell you this," he added more quietly, "but thanks for coming after me."

Sarah smiled at him as she pulled back, pleased. "We'll call it even. I'll miss you too, Daniel. Please tell the others I said goodbye." She bent down to pick up her bag again and headed off.

"Call me when you get there," Daniel called after her.

She turned to grin back at him. "I will. That is if you can manage to stay out of trouble between now and then."

"No promises."

Shaking her head with a smile, Sarah turned away one last time.

* * *

Amelia knocked timidly on the door.

"Enter."

Slowly, she turned the handle and pushed the door open. She stepped half-hesitantly into the room and offered a quiet smile. "I was hoping to catch you before you left."

Malek straightened from where he'd been assembling his few belongings and gave a slight bow. "Amelia," he greeted.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, stepping all the way inside the room. She shut the door gently behind her.

He was silent for a moment, considering. Then he said, "It is difficult to describe. Adjusting to a new host is always a strange experience, but I've never held a host for as brief a time as I did Jonas Quinn. A time too brief to truly become comfortable, and far too long a time to not leave a lasting effect." He stared at her across the room with a sad expression.

"You know that I can't even begin to thank you for what you did for him," Amelia said, wringing her hands. She found herself agitated. "Especially considering what it cost you. Both of you," she added forcefully. "It was incredibly selfless."

"It was not," he said.

Bewildered by the unwavering force of this statement, it was a moment before Amelia could speak. "Malek?" she finally managed.

He gave a slow, heavy sigh, and looked away for a moment. "My motivations for my behavior were not entirely what you believe them to be," he said.

"What do you mean?"

He turned to face her again, catching her eyes with his. "You know that I love you," he said. "When you saw Jonas in the dungeon of Bubastis, I saw in your eyes what I have longed to see when you looked at me. I saved his life for your sake, Amelia, yes, but more than that I desired to share the experience I knew I would find upon blending-- the knowledge of what it was to feel your love returned."

Amelia stood paralyzed, staring back at him. Finally, she swallowed. "Malek, I--"

He stepped across the small room to look down at her, his dark eyes brooding with peace and pain. "I wish I had never learned," he said softly. He took her face gently between his hands and kissed her.

Amelia was too overwhelmed to resist him. She sensed the searing of memory in the motion of his lips, a bittersweet finality. Unable to stop herself, she reached up for his collar and pulled him closer, wondering wildly in the back of her mind how it could be possible to care so much for two vastly different people. They were in some ways inseparable now, Jonas and Malek, but she had made her choice. Before any promises had been made that could be broken, she pulled Malek even closer and tasted the road she must and would close.

When he broke the kiss, they gazed at one another silently for a moment. Already the haze of passion was fading in the back of Amelia's mind, and filling its place was a sad awkwardness.

Finally, Malek spoke. "It is my opinion that our follow-up research of the Tretonin experiment has been sufficient in duration," he said formally. "I plan to inform the Tok'ra High Council of it when next they convene. As such, it is very likely our paths will no longer cross."

"I wish you well," she said softly. "Thank you so much. For everything."

He bowed again. "It has been my honor, Amelia Kinsey of the Tau'ri."

Malek crossed the room and retrieved the small, hard case on the bed that contained his few belongings. Amelia stepped aside as he approached the door and allowed him to open it. He made to leave, and turned back one last time. "Jonas Quinn is a fortunate man, Amelia," he said, "and a deserving one. If you accept his proposal, you will make him happier than you even realize."

She felt her heart twist a little. "Thank you for telling me."

He gazed at her for a few more interminable heartbeats, his eyes roving her face. The brusquely he straightened, turned, and walked resolutely away. She watched him until he was out of sight.

She turned to the right, inhaled deeply, and exhaled with equal conviction, mentally purging all the doubt and confusion that had plagued her over the last few days, right up until the last few moments. It was all in the past now. It was time to pursue the future.

After taking inventory of all the likely places on the base, Amelia finally found Jonas in the rec room. She paused outside the door, holding back so that he didn't notice her, content merely to watch for a moment. He seemed introvert, distracted. She watched him pick up the ping pong paddle and bounce the ball a couple of times before relinquishing the paddle to the tabletop once more. Amelia bit her lip with a secret smile. Her stomach was fluttering.

"I thought I might you here," she finally called out quietly.

He turned in surprise. "Amelia, hi," he said. She bit back another grin as she watched the way his hands and arms kept moving. He never knew what to do with them when he was nervous.

She stepped into the room. "Malek just left," she informed him.

Jonas digested this news pensively, giving a slow nod. "Yeah," he said. "We talked a bit last night," he said. "We figured it would probably be easier if we just made it a clean break."

"I think I can understand that."

An awkward silence descended. Amelia walked over to the table facing him, so that they were on either side of one of the corners. "I've been thinking a lot about your question," she said quietly.

In a millisecond, several reactions flitted through his eyes. Relief that she had brought up the subject and apprehension of a different kind than that of which he'd just let go. And desperate hope. "Before I answer," Amelia continued, "there is one thing I need to tell you. Something I think you have a right to know."

The palate of emotions on his face was joined by concern and curiosity. "What's that?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. "I can't have children, Jonas."

He stared at her for a moment. "A side effect of your chemotherapy," he finally said.

She nodded. "Tretonin is great for a lot of things," she said. "But not this. The damage was already done."

"I'm so sorry, Amelia. Did you want kids?"

She bit her lip, thinking of her niece and nephews. "Yeah," she said. "I did. Someday. But I'm resigned to it now." She looked up and met his eyes. "The real question is, do _you_ want kids?"

He was quiet for a long time, his eyes never leaving her face, and she could see his unspoken answer in their searching gaze. Finally, he walked over and put his arms around her. She nestled her head against his shoulder, feeling an inexplicable, otherworldly calm. "Only if you could be their mother," he said quietly.

She closed her eyes and smiled. Half a heartbeat later, she pulled away and looked long and deep into his eyes. "Well, that being said, Jonas Quinn, we'd best go see General O'Neill. I imagine that these interplanetary weddings are a bit trickier to arrange than most." She grinned at him.

He blinked rapidly several times before a huge smile overtook his entire face. "You say yes?"

She nodded, feeling giddy. "Yes, yes, I say yes!" she said laughing.

Jonas laughed too, and crushed her to him. He pulled away with equal abruptness. "That's--" he began. "Wow, Amelia, I can't--"

She leaned up slightly and gave him a feather-soft kiss on the lips. "I know," she said, and sighed happily. "Me too."

"I think you said something about going to see General O'Neill," he prompted.

She threaded her fingers into his. "After you."

* * *

Jack O'Neill stared at the pile of manila folders on his desk and added a new one to the pile with a scowl. Then he leaned forward on his elbows and rubbed his temples. "A wedding. _Another_ wedding. We should start booking for a fee."

Sitting in the chairs across the desk, he could practically feel Daniel and Sam exchange those not-so-subtle amused expressions at his expense.

"Well, hey," Sam pointed out helpfully. "There will be cake."

Jack looked up at her. "There'd better be," he said darkly. "I'll make a note to tell Amelia that I insist upon it." He looked around furtively. "Where's my pen?"

"Jack, this can't be any harder to deal with than the Jaffa wedding was," Daniel pointed out as Jack rummaged through piles of paper.

"Yeah, I mean, Teal'c isn't part of the wedding party, for starters," Sam pointed out. "And you probably won't have any of the emotional fireworks between the bride and groom."

"And no horses," Daniel added.

Jack sighed, giving up on the search for his pen. "Yeah, well, despite all of that, the Jaffa were still completely autonomous from Earth. Amelia is an American citizen, and of course that means they want me to fill out ten-thousand forms. Not only that, she asked if I would recommend her sister for security clearance so that she could tell her what was happening."

"And what did you say?" Sam asked.

"Well, what was I supposed to say?" Jack asked petulantly.

She grinned. "You're such a softie, sir."

"Yeah, I know, I know, "

"So Amelia's going to Langara then?" Daniel asked.

"Yup. Actually, that was their first argument as an official couple. In that nauseating, 'I'll do it for you, No, honey! I'll do it for you' kind of arguing. But, in the end, she convinced him." Jack shook his head. "Still, better her than me," he muttered.

"I've got to say, I couldn't agree more."

"It's not going to be easy for her, that's for sure."

"So when's the big day?" Daniel asked.

Jack leaned back in his chair. "Well. If all goes to plan-- about a month from now? Jonas is going back to Kelowna to get things cleared up on his end. It will probably take them that long to decide if they all agree on Amelia's age and eye color for her security papers. In the meantime, she's got to go to Kinsey's funeral and tell her sister that yes, there are aliens, and you're about to be in-laws with one. That is, if my request is approved."

"What's the cover story on Kinsey's death, anyway?"

"Well, the unofficial story heretofore has been that he disappeared while sailing that pretty little boat of his off yonder shores and his body was never found. Guess what? We just found it."

"Wouldn't that require some considerable mortician skills?" Daniel pointed out. "I mean, if the guy's body's been bobbing around at sea for the past five weeks--"

"Well, we accidentally went ahead and cremated him before we remembered we ought to ask his wife's permission," said Jack helpfully.

"Ah."

"You know," said Sam, "you'd think after all this time that the SGC would have gotten better at its cover stories."

"Do you feel sorry for him?" Daniel asked.

Jack looked up, mildly disbelieving. "Who? Kinsey?" he asked.

"Yes."

Jack sighed heavily. "You play with fire, you're going to get burned," was all he said.

"I do, a little," said Sam.

Daniel looked at her curiously. "Why?"

She looked uncomfortable. "When I was undercover working for Anat, I learned a few things. That goa'uld that was controlling Kinsey-- he was really twisted. Even more twisted than most."

"Yeah, he gave me the creeps," Daniel commented. "I'm not sure why he delayed his orders from Ba'al and Anat for almost a whole week just for the sport of torturing Amelia."

"Torturing Kinsey," Sam clarified.

Daniel looked at her quizzically. "No, he was most definitely torturing Amelia," he said slowly. "I was kind of there."

She shook her head. "I didn't mean he wasn't, sorry, it's just, when I say he was really twisted that was one of the reasons. That goa'uld took particular delight in finding ways to torment his hosts. Amelia was singled out specifically to torment Kinsey."

"Sounds like a winner," Jack observed.

"Well, that explains that, at least," said Daniel, leaning back in his chair.

"Enough of this torture talk," Jack scolded. "Lets get back to happy thoughts. Like weddings!"

"And paperwork?" asked Sam, teasing.

Jack scowled at her.

A few hours later, just as Jack was organizing piles of paperwork so that Walter wouldn't do it for him (thereby causing Jack to not be able to find things), General Hammond called.

"Jack, your request for security clearance for one Lydia Jerrard has been granted," the General reported.

"Good to hear, sir," Jack said, twisting around to reach under the phone cord for the pile of folders in the far corner tray. "Though I have to say, I'm a little surprised. Committee going soft too, is it?"

"Due to the fact that Miss Kinsey is going to inexplicably disappear off the face of the planet mere weeks after the equally mysterious disappearance and death of her father, it was decided that making another member of the Kinsey family made aware of the situation would help to ensure our cover story would be accepted without a fuss."

"Wow, sir, it's hard to believe that was only one sentence." On the other end, General Hammond chuckled, and Jack smiled. "Well, thanks for calling, General. Always good to hear your voice. And thank you. I know you went to bat for this more than you're letting on."

"My pleasure."

"Hey, you coming to the wedding? I know the kids would love to see you there."

"I think I'd like that. I'll do my best."

"In the meantime, what do say to the idea of booking the place at a charge? We could call it, 'Wedding in a Bunker: All your dreams at one great package rate'."

More chuckling. "Goodnight, Jack."

"Night, sir."

Jack hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment, pondering. He thought back to two weeks ago, thinking ironically on his ill-fated plans to keep Jonas and Amelia from reuniting. He smiled. He should have known. After all, The Plan very rarely succeeded, did it? But sometimes that was a good thing.

And Carter was right about one thing, there would be cake. Or heads would roll.

* * *

**A/N**: Now all we have left is the epilogue, which I'll be posting tonight. It has been written for a while and its content may surprise some people, but more about that later. This post, however, is hot off the presses.


	17. EPILOGUE: Rubix Cube

**EPILOGUE** - _Rubix Cube_

_Warning/Disclaimer: Things kind of wander into R territory a bit with the sensuality in this chapter._

* * *

Amelia studied her reflection with interest. Her outfit wasn't exactly what she'd pictured for her wedding night, but it still made her feel beautiful. Anyway, considering the circumstances, it was really quite fitting that it was a little bit different. Stylistically, it was pretty much like a tank top and pajama pants back on Earth, with a small, loose robe to go over, but that was as far as the resemblance went. Each piece was made of the softest, shimmering fabric, pale as eggshells, and trimmed with the most sweetly-patterned lace Amelia had ever seen.

She fingered the edge of the robe, smiling a little, heart pounding. It had been the strangest few weeks of her life. Swept into an unexpected, life-altering adventure, she was now on a different planet and she was married – _married_ – to Jonas. She grinned back at her mirror self.

The wedding had hardly been what she'd pictured as a six-year-old girl arranging her Barbie dolls and teddy bears on her bedroom floor for a make-believe wedding. True, her dress had been white, but it was just a sundress. In fact, she'd worn it to the park the Sunday before in San Diego when she'd told Lydia all about Jonas and the Stargate. Having Lydia at the wedding had meant more than words could have possibly expressed.

The base chaplain had performed the ceremony, which took all of about ten minutes. Jonas had kissed her, and they'd had cake and punch. She'd bid Lydia a tearful goodbye, and then they'd gathered in the gate room again, this time to go through it, and home.

_This is my home now_, Amelia thought, looking around. Jonas's flat was modest – he said he hadn't spent much time there – but it was neat and comfortable. He said they'd look for something better in the next few days. Apparently, his position on his planet meant he got paid very nicely, which Amelia had learned when she'd expressed concerns for her lack of niceties that a new bride often enjoyed. Jonas had blushed and smiled and given her what was (presumably) a rather hefty chunk of change and taken her to a store, where he'd waited outside while she fumbled her way through shopping on an alien world.

Service on Kelowna seemed to be a lot more, well, serviceable than it had become in the United States. Amelia, amused and a little awkward about her groundless knowledge of fashion on this world, couldn't exactly tell the sales clerk she was from another world, so she'd made a show of confiding to the clerk her "appalling" sense of fashion and her need for guidance. She would just have to trust that the clerk had, in turn, been someone who knew what she was doing.

It had been pretty late in the day when they'd ventured out shopping, so by the time Amelia was finished, the store was closing up. Then Jonas had taken her to a nice restaurant where she'd enjoyed her very first vitaraung music – an instrument she immediately decided she was interested in pursuing – and then they'd come back here.

Her satisfaction with her clothing now firmly established, Amelia made quick work of the rest of her appearance. Her face betrayed her heightened nerves – flush skin and bright eyes, but this wasn't really a bad thing. She was usually too pale for her own liking, anyway. Her hair… well, she'd be here forever if she worried about that.

When she could neither stall nor ignore the pounding of her heart any longer, Amelia turned around and opened the door with some trepidation. Then she nearly burst out laughing.

Her new husband was sitting on the bed, cross-legged, frowning furiously at the rubix cube that had been in her carry-on bag from when she'd flown to Colorado. His face was a picture of intent concentration. She shook her head. Knowing him, he'd have it solved within the hour if she let him continue, which she had no intention of doing.

"I'm glad to see you missed me," she said softly, laughing a little.

He looked up at the sound of her voice, his face transforming from a frown to a grin, but whatever words he had been about to say died on his lips and all he managed was a soft, "Wow," that made Amelia's stomach flip a little. "You look amazing."

"Thanks. So do you."

He gave her a disbelieving expression. "I haven't even changed," he said, looking down at his clothes apologetically. "I got –" he held up the rubix cube and made a sheepish face, " – distracted."

Amelia smiled shrewdly, hopped onto the bed on her hands and knees in front of him, and stole a quick, playful kiss. "You always look fantastic," she informed him matter-of-factly when she pulled back again. She pulled herself into a mimic of his posture, crossing her legs so that they sat across from one another, knees almost touching. "I want to see my violin tomorrow," she informed him. "You promised."

"I did promise," he said. He was staring at her face, and he suddenly reached up to touch it. "I can't believe you're here," he said softly, his eyes roaming her features as if he were afraid she would suddenly disappear.

Amelia reached up and covered his warm hand with her own and closed her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere," she assured him, squeezing his fingers underneath hers. When she dropped her hand and opened her eyes again, he was still staring at her in wonderment, and she smiled a little. "Jonas, you can kiss me now," she said in an almost-whisper. She had intended it to be a joke, but instead it came out in a rather alarmingly serious tone, a nervous and almost desperate request.

Something seemed to crackle in the short space between their faces, which Jonas made quick work of eliminating, claiming her mouth with his own. Jonas's kisses were always intoxicating. He never demanded, only persuaded, but he was oh-so-very persuasive. Amelia closed her eyes and put her hands in his hair, relishing his scent and his taste and wondering desperately where his other hand was and why it wasn't on her.

Distractedly, she lowered her left hand from Jonas's hair to his idle arm, then traced the arm down to his hand, where she found the forgotten rubix cube still clutched inside. She pulled it out of his grasp impatiently, tossing it to the nether-regions of the bedroom, where it could gather dust for all eternity as far as she was concerned.

Jonas took the hint. His hands now found their way to her upper arms, where, with agonizing slowness, he began to slip the thin robe off her shoulders. As he did so, he pulled his kiss away from her mouth and lowered it to the curve of her neck and shoulder. Amelia obliged him by shifting her position, clambering to her knees as best as she could and Jonas helped her slide completely into his lap.  
Once there, she put her arms completely around him and buried her face in his shoulder, beginning to tremble a little, as he very deliberately untied the strings that held the tank top in place in behind her neck with one hand. With the other he ran the backs of his fingers slowly and tantalizingly down the length of her spine. She shivered.

"Amelia, are you all right?" he asked abruptly, pulling back slightly to look concernedly at her. "Are you scared? I mean because we could always –" he swallowed.

"I'm not scared," she said. Not inclined to further converse with words, Amelia kissed him once more before he could speak. She grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and tugged, and he, seeming to understand her meaning, made a muffled sound of agreement and flipped her onto her back.

Soon the top was gone altogether, and Jonas was kissing her in places that made her vision swim. While he was thus occupied, she took the opportunity of getting most of his shirt peeled off, although he had to stop and help on the last bit. At last, however, it was accomplished and the resulting meld of hot skin on hot skin was blissfully rewarding.

They did not rush, but explored and learned slowly. Amelia found herself strangely shy, this first time, though never nervous. In his lovemaking Jonas was as honest, as straightforward, and as gentle as he was in everything else. In the end, when the discomfort was past and he finally moved inside her, Amelia felt as though all the beauty of the universe had been captured within one single moment. There was a man, a beautiful man with a good heart who loved her. She had given up almost everything she had for him, and she had no second thoughts anymore.

Finally, Jonas slowed and stopped, breathing heavily, and propped himself up to gaze down at her. Now he was the one trembling, but Amelia felt utterly and completely relaxed. She reached up and brushed his hair – slightly damp with sweat – away from his forehead. "Thank you," she whispered, tracing her fingers down his face to touch his lips.

"Thank you for marrying me," he said lowly back. He lowered himself and kissed her fully once more, then said, "I love you."

She smiled. "Same here," she said lazily.

He pulled away then, turning over onto his back, and Amelia snuggled into his side. "Wow," he declared to the ceiling. "I am really tired."

"Hmmn," Amelia said, closing her eyes. "I wonder why."

Because her eyes were closed, she had no warning, although perhaps the four seconds of suspicious silence should have alerted her, but the next thing she knew, her face was being thwumped by a pillow. "Hey!" she cried, sitting up straight, and whirling around to glare at her husband, who was wearing an expression that merited a fake halo being painted over his head. He made no effort, however, to hide the offending pillow, which was still clutched in his hand. "Give me that," she ordered, trying to take it from him.

Jonas only grinned and held on tightly. "You deserved it," he said lightly, laughing.

The harder she tugged, the tighter he held. "I thought you were _tired_," she scolded him. All traces of her erstwhile serenity were suddenly gone. She felt very much awake and energized.

"This is worth it."

"Fine." She gave up and sprang for her own pillow, but soon found she was too far away and not quite fast enough, for Jonas snatched that out of her reach, too, laughing wholeheartedly as she landed ungracefully in the place where the pillow had been, right next to him. Amelia paused and stared over at him with narrowed eyes. Then she gave a wicked grin. "I know how to shut you up," she said smugly.

"Yeah?" he replied. "And how's –?"

He never finished the question. She kissed him soundly, pouring all her newfound energy into the gesture. Taking advantage of Jonas's distraction, she used the opportunity to send one pillow the way of the rubix cube and put the other clumsily back under her husband's head, but she did not stop kissing him.  
This went on until it was clear all thoughts of pillow abuse had vacated Jonas's mind.

Finally, Amelia pulled away. The moment had passed as quickly as it had come, and the momentous events of the month began to take their toll. She looked at Jonas, who smiled his best, but she could see the weariness behind his eyes as well.

Sighing contentedly, she pulled far enough away that she could curl up comfortably beside him, resting her head under his chin. Jonas reached out and began lazily playing with her curls.

"You know," he said, his voice slightly distant with the slur of oncoming sleep. "I keep forgetting to tell you how much I love your hair, since last time we were together--it wasn't--"

He yawned hugely then. It was the last thing Amelia remembered before she fell asleep.

The next morning, both Jonas and Amelia slept in quite late. Amelia could tell as much by the brightness of the sun outside the curtained window and the near lack of shadows made by the objects in the room. Jonas was already awake, sitting up in the bed beside her, reading the volume of Shakespeare's comedies she'd had Daniel pick up for her as a last-minute wedding gift. She studied him for a moment, letting his face bring back fresh memories, and smiled.

A moment later, she noticed the rubix cube sitting on the nightstand beside him, completely solved.

"Jonas?"

He pulled his eyes away from the book and gave her a big smile. "Good morning," he said.

"How long have you been awake?"

"About half an hour. Why?"

Amelia's only reply was a sound that fell somewhere between a groan and a laugh. "Nothing," she said, shaking her head.

"Amelia?"

"What?"

"Do you want to go get something to eat? I'm _really_ hungry."

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

**A/N**: Well, that's a wrap! This story has been a strange and meandering adventure. Thanks to all you who've kept the faith in its completion. There is a third story just beginning to take vague shape in my brain. This time, I'm going to write the whole thing before I post, so it will probably be a long while. By which time most people will probably have forgotten there ever was a member of SG-1 named Jonas Quinn, but who do we write fanfic for if not first and foremost for our own gratification? ;-)

A few thoughts on the content of this epilogue may be found below, because whether or not you care, it's something that I needed to get off my chest. It's a bit long-winded, sorry about that! You are certainly under no pressure to read it. LOL

Many happy returns, and _please please_ leave feedback!!

Saché

* * *

On the subject of my much-steamier-than-usual wedding scene: sigh Okay, this is something of a confessional, so humor me. I'm a Christian. I believe a lot of the things that Christians are renowned for believing: People should be monogamous, sex is only for marriage, and I also believe that we don't need to be seeing/reading/hearing about sex every time we turn around. I believe all of these things not because I'm a prude, or a fuddy-duddy, or (God help me, people _actually_ think this) brainwashed. I believe them with all my heart. I believe that God gave parameters for sex not to deprive us from something good, or because he doesn't want us to enjoy ourselves, but to keep sex healthy, keep us holy, and also to keep things in perspective. Put it a different way: Sex is not God. No matter what this society seems to want to tell us.

I'm almost twenty-seven years old. I'm a virgin, and I will be until the vows have been made. Period. Sometimes I feel a bit wistful about it, yes (I repeat, I'm no prude), but I do not feel unfulfilled.

All of that being said, as a famous and (I confess, albeit grudgingly) accurate (if somewhat vulgar) song once brazenly stated: The Internet is for porn. And I am red-blooded. And I am curious. I have read my fair share of NC-17. I wish that I hadn't. While I think that sexuality is not a thing to be ignored as if it doesn't exist, I feel as if, despite my great and lofty stance of abstinence, a portion of my innocence has been lost regardless. I blame _no one_ for this. These are my personal standards and I am a grown woman. I have the power to choose what to read and not to read, and even after I realized that choosing to read the wrong thing was a mark against my testimony, I often did it anyway. Sometimes, I still do, though I've been riding a plateau of strength here for the last little while. I'm fine with plateaus. They're not as exhausting as roller coasters. :-)

Now, this rant was originally about the content of this epilogue. I wrote this scene (sans the tweaks to comply with the rest of the fic and a couple of scientific ones since I don't actually know what the heck I'm talking about – hahaha, thank you to my betas who shall remain nameless) when I was kind of taking things to far in what I read and the temptation stretched further into wanting to _write_. Part of this was the effect that smut has on the psyche and part of it was because I'm a horrific prima donna and I occasionally get perturbed that smut draws a lot of readers just because it's smut.

Anyway, I wrote this scene. It was a landmark. It was… I felt really weird about it, afterward. Partially because I felt stupid since I didn't have any experience to draw from, and partly because I felt like I'd betrayed something.

I know a lot of you are probably reading this going, okay, Sach, that was the tamest bedroom scene I've ever read in my life. Yeah, I know. I know that to a lot of people on my friends list I probably seem like I'm about eleven years old right now, green and naïve, but such is life. LOL The experience was a wake up call. It kind of became the point at which I stepped a little too far over the line into how involved I was letting myself become. I believe sometimes God lets us go just a little bit over the line so that when we do it becomes infinitely clear where the lines are.

I'm never going to attempt to write smut again. It's not for me; all taste I have for it died after this. (Reading smut is a beast of a slightly different face with whom I must wrestle). I ventured, I learned, and the experience, though bizarre, was very beneficial to my growth as a Christian.

I have readers here at FF.N who have complimented me many times on being able to read my fanfic without worry for content, young ladies who are trying, like me, to enjoy the good things about fandom and avoiding the bad, and this essay/confessional is primarily for their benefit. It was also for their sake that I wrestled so long with whether or not I actually should post this. This is also hard for me to post because my sister will probably read it, and that does make me a bit embarrassed, even if we have vaguely talked about such things before. Still, I finally decided to go ahead with it for three very important reasons.

First, because it's some of my favorite Jonas/Amelia interaction there is. The idea of not sharing Jonas and the rubix cube with my readers was just too hard to contemplate. It seemed a disservice to these two not to share such delightful and endearing characterization.

Secondly, because of what I said before, that even though Christians have strong beliefs about sex, it is important to talk about it once in a while, because it is a part of our lives, and not even a "bad" part. (gasp) As a friend pointed out, the characters in the scene are doing nothing that's outside the boundaries of my own personal morals. They're married. This scene represents, in essence, my hopes/expectations for my wedding night. I imagine I am going to be a little bit nervous, a lot shy, and I don't have any expectations to shatter the earth the first time around. I don't. I'm sorry, but I think the beauty of a long-term relationship is that physical pleasure only gets better as you go along because you will learn from each other.

Thirdly, I decided just to post it because… it is what it is, and I am what I am, a flawed human being who cannot always live up to what she's pledged to God.

I make my repentances every day. I am the new man (woman – lol) every day. Every moment, even.

(But I make no apologies for the rubix cube. I don't know why, but it amuses me so much. LOL)


End file.
